Devided We Fall: Part 1 In The Devided Trilogy
by Nelia
Summary: Jack and Sam are held hostage on a planet where slavery is customary to its occupants because of a cruel leader named Maldo. When a rescue is ruled out because of new restrictions placed on the Stargate and Sam is the only one able to get home, it’s thr
1. Warning

WARNING To all future readers:  
  
THIS STORY HASN'T BEEN WRITTEN BY ME, NOR DID I HAVE ANY INPUT IN THE STORY!!!  
  
I'M JUST POSTING THE STORY FOR SPYRO BECAUSE SHE IS MY FRIEND AND A WONDERFUL WRITTER!! MORE PEOPLE SHOULD READ HER WORK, SO I'M POSTING IT HERE TOO...  
  
EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN THE STORY WAS THOUGHT UP AND WRITTEN BY THE WONDERFUL SPYRO!!!!  
  
IF YOU WISH TO REVIEW THE STORY PLEASE REMEMBER I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT AND ALL COMMENT SHOULD GO TO SPYRO HERSELF, EITHER MAIL HER OR LEAVE A REVIEW HERE, I'LL MAKE SURE SHE GETS IT!!!  
  
THE STORY IS A TRILOGY, SO PLEASE KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN WHEN READING, OTHERWISE IT MIGHT GET CONFUSING!!!!  
  
THIS IS PART 1: DEVIDED WE FALL!!  
  
THANKS FOR UNDERSTANDING AND ENJOY THE STORY!!!  
  
SPYRO & NELIA 


	2. Prologue

"The Divided Trilogy" - By Spyro  
  
Title: The Divided Trilogy  
  
Author: Spyro  
  
E-mail: traversekingdom@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Content Warnings: Torture, Violence  
  
Season/Sequel Info: Season 5  
  
Category: Drama/Action  
  
Pairings: None  
  
Spoilers: Emancipation, Solitudes (Season 1) A Hundred Days (Season 3) Divide and Conquer (Season 4)  
  
Status: Complete  
  
Archive: Heliopolis & Jackfic. All others please ask first.  
  
URL:   
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything of course - everyone should know that. I'm just borrowing it all for entertainment. No money was made as you know, or I would not still be here, I'd be off in some huge house with everything I've ever wanted and a pool and a butler and.  
  
Brief Summary: Jack and Sam are held hostage on a planet where slavery is customary to its occupants because of a cruel leader named Maldo who Sam discovers is in fact a Goa'uld. When a rescue is ruled out because of new restrictions placed on the Stargate and Sam is the only one able to get home, it's three months of Hell for Jack who has become Maldo's new favourite form of entertainment.  
  
Author's Notes: This started because I had a brief idea in my head, and somehow it morphed into what it is now. No idea what happened, please don't venture there.lol. Lemme know what you think overall, no flames of course. Thanks a bunch folks. You know I love you all! Specially big thanks to my beta reader, Corine. You're a saint; I know you know it! Love you, thanks so much for all your wonderful help. 


	3. Live And Learn

Part 1 - Divided We Fall  
  
Chapter 1 - Live and Learn  
  
"Carter," O'Neill said as they trudged through the dense scrub land of P4C 237, "remind me why we're here again?"  
  
Carter smiled lightly to herself and pushed passed a fallen log. "To recover the equipment we left here last time," she replied.  
  
"We left equipment here for a reason, of course?"  
  
"Yes, Sir. We left it to record the planetary shift of this planet."  
  
"And that's important because.?"  
  
"Because as the planets all shift in the solar system, they slowly get closer to one another. If the ones closest to Earth move at a regular pace, then we could collide with one of them within the next few hundred years. With the help of this equipment, we may be able to predict how long it will take before it occurs."  
  
"Ah. Of course. I knew that."  
  
Sam chuckled under her breath. After nearly two hours of trekking toward the village, Jack and Sam finally reached it and recovered their gear.  
  
Daniel was away in Chicago, seeing a friend for his birthday, or so they'd been told. Teal'c was away visiting his family and staying for a week or more, as was Daniel. Sam had remembered the equipment they were supposed to recover only a few hours before she was actually contemplating leaving the base for her downtime. When she recalled it, she informed the General and he asked that she collect it before she left for home. That as soon as it was recovered, she could leave. Jack had been present when the General told Carter, and asked that Jack accompany her - two being far safer than one. Naturally, the Colonel hadn't objected and they set off on the journey together, mid-morning. It was now 12:20 and they'd only just reached the village and got their gear back from the pleasant villagers. "Thanks again," Jack said as they turned to leave and the leader of the village waved them goodbye. Once they were a few hundred meters out of sight and earshot, the leader turned to the two men by his right side.  
  
"Track them down and bring them to me," he told them calmly and they nodded. "They will not leave this planet alive."  
  
"Yes, Maldo," they replied in sync and then left his company.  
  
Maldo was and had been the leader of the village for as long as anyone in it could recall. Before him, his father had owned the same position. Through the generations, Maldo and his ancestors had always been leaders. Everyone in the village knew this, and respected him greatly. Far more than he deserved. His father had been an excellent leader. Fair and kind. His leadership was praised. His rule lasted many a long year. For more than four hundred years, he ruled the village and all surrounding establishments. If anyone did seek advice or knowledge, they could always, and often would, approach Maldo the Fifth for it. His wisdom exceeded their own, and his faith was known. The day of his death brought much sadness to that village and adjoining townships. The days following that were then ruled by his son, Maldo the Sixth. Initially, he followed his father's example and was a well-loved leader, just as Maldo the Fifth had been. Shortly after, only a few decades, his behaviour changed. After a long battle between a race of powerful people (unbeknownst to them, the Goa'uld) he changed into a person no one knew. His manner was no longer that of his father's. Now he was cruel. He ordered the deaths of many, for minute discrepancies between them or others. It was soon common knowledge that he was now the most disliked ruler the village had ever held. As this knowledge spread, those who had despised the past rulers for their kindness began to show themselves and ally with this new, unforgiving sovereign. His power slowly grew while the villagers continued on with their simple lives, seemingly unaware of the power gathering within their house of rule. That was until the day he declared war on another, lesser-populated planet - something no leader had ever dared before. This announcement frightened and shocked the villagers into silence. They no longer spoke to one another about how odd their leader was, or how they disliked him. This scared them in such a way that some were almost too scared to leave their homes during the day in case he spotted them and ordered their murder for some unknown reason as he had done many times before. What shocked the villagers the most was the fact that the war was declared against a peaceful race. A race they rarely heard a word from. When the war was won, Maldo and his allied forces overthrew the planet itself and claimed it as their own. The arrival of SG-1 had surprised the townships and they had welcomed them, hoping they would be the undoing of their new ruler. Unfortunately for them whilst SG-1 were there, Maldo changed his ways so they had no reason to suspect him of being anything else but a kind and friendly man. Now, as Sam and Jack walked back to the Stargate, they had seen nothing more than a pleasant village of friendly people and smiled. Finally a nice place.  
  
If only they'd known how wrong they were.  
  
@  
  
Rustling within the scrub made Jack stop and grasp Sam's wrist. "Colonel?" she questioned, noticing how he shook his head slowly, flicking his eyes from side to side. "What is it, Sir?"  
  
"I heard something," he replied.  
  
"Maybe just an animal."  
  
"And it didn't sound like an animal." His hand slipped slowly from her wrist and moved to his P-90.  
  
"Colonel?" Carter persisted.  
  
O'Neill frowned and looked at her, dropping his guard slightly and shrugging. "Just keep your eyes open, Major," O'Neill suggested cautiously.  
  
The sinking feeling that somebody was close by, watching them, tingled at his skin and he didn't ignore it. His senses were as alert and as sharp as they always were. It nagged away at him - the sensation that he and his 2IC were being followed, watched. Just as they both seemed to have settled back into a silent calm, a dart zoomed out from the bushes. It hit Sam in the neck and didn't take long to take effect. After no more than a minute, she was slumped on the ground. Jack dropped to the ground behind some shrubs immediately; his eyes scrutinized the bushes in search of the sniper. The decent was sharp, but so was the point of the dart, hitting his throat as he went. He grabbed at it and removed it. Jack had barely been searching the bushes for thirty seconds before an identical dart found its way through the shrubs and hit his arm. He had no time to grab at this one. It had overtaken his consciousness too quickly. As a result, he joined his second in command on the ground.  
  
With a quick smile from their intermediate assassins, their bodies were collected and taken to the one who had requested them.  
  
@  
  
O'Neill and Carter woke up in a darkened cell. O'Neill rubbed fiercely at his eyes as he sat up in his cage. He saw his 2IC in the cage beside his and noticed she was still unconscious. "Carter," he said softly so as not to attract unnecessary attention, while he pushed his arm through the cages' bars and through to Sam. She was leaning in an uncomfortable looking position against the wooden, vertical bars of her enclosure. The cages were joined by one neutral wall of wooden bars, shared by them both. Sam was leaning against the wall adjacent to this wall, opposite the door to the enclosure. Jack shook Sam gently, interested to know her current medical status. She jerked her head suddenly and groaned.  
  
"Colonel?" her voice crackled out of her throat as she slowly opened her eyes and blinked fervently to focus them.  
  
"Yeah," he confirmed, "you ok?"  
  
Rubbing a hand at the side of her head, Carter nodded. "Yes, Sir," she replied uncertainly. "How are you?"  
  
"Peachy."  
  
"Sir, we've been disarmed."  
  
"Yep, I know."  
  
Jack took a moment to scale their surroundings. Small, plain and quiet. "Looks like we might be spending the night," he commented when noticing the movement outside, through the small window on the left wall of their cell. Sam was beginning to take control of the sick feelings in her head and sat up properly. She too, took in hers and her Colonel's surroundings. Nothing exciting, that was for sure. Bland walls, and with little light, it wouldn't have mattered if Michelangelo had painted the ceiling.  
  
"Think they could've at least brightened up the place," Jack complained. Apparently, their voices could be heard from the outside of their cell. A heavily built man, wielding a whip of some kind, entered and provided more light by leaving the entrance open.  
  
"Fetch Maldo," he spoke loudly to others positioned outside of the cell.  
  
Jack and Sam saw the movement as the other guards left to fill out their orders. "Nice of you to come visit," O'Neill said dryly.  
  
The guard was blasé to the Colonel's comment, far more interested in the Major. His light green eyes settled on her and seemed to give her the once over - as if checking to see she was real. Sam looked away in disgust, her own eyes finding her Colonel. He shrugged. Another thickly built man entered the cell, but was dressed far more importantly compared with the guard surveying Sam. This man wore dress robes of some description. A deep crimson in colour, with swirling patterns over the sleeves and collar, rising high at the back of his neck. The robe itself brushed the ground in its length, the sleeves also passing the man's fingertips. His bare feet could just be seen beyond the hem of the robe. It made light swishing sounds as he walked into the cell and stopped a few feet from the join in the cages holding Jack and Sam.  
  
"My prisoners," the man sneered with an eerie smile, "welcome." He gestured around them, as though it was an impressive sight. He began to twirl his long necklace around the hand that had made the gesture. Sam and Jack were eluded as to whether or not they were expected to say anything. Just as the shabbily dressed guards' had, the robed man's scrutinizing eyes laid upon Sam. His unnatural calm sent an uncomfortable feeling through the cell. His guards appeared to be enthralled in his every move - their eyes never drawing away from him.  
  
"My name is Maldo," the man said suddenly, but his voice was still and quiet. O'Neill and Carter still remained silent. "Your names, I already know."  
  
"You told us your name was Chey," Sam spoke up finally. Maldo blinked abnormally slow and then looked up to her.  
  
"That is correct," he responded. "Why did you lie to us?"  
  
"I need not justify my actions to you. You are my prisoners. And you will not leave this planet alive, I assure you."  
  
"Fun as it sounds, I think we'll just go and leave you to do.whatever it is you do here," Jack said.  
  
Maldo smiled eerily again and ran a finger around the rim of his mouth before responding. "If you believe you can talk your way out of this," he said slowly, "it shall be best if I inform you now that it is not a wise thing to believe, Colonel."  
  
There was a long silence in the cell, where both guards minded Sam with their eyes and Maldo examined his prisoners. His dark eyes scanned them both, as though finding faults in them. Taking notes in his own mind as if he were a judge in a cat show.  
  
"Take the woman now," he said after a long while.  
  
His guards obeyed. Opening the door to Sam's section of the cage, they pulled her from it and bound her wrists before leading her away and out of the cell.  
  
Maldo remained inside for a moment, alone with Jack. "If you believe you can save yourself and your female friend, I warn you. This is not a game. You cannot use words to gain an exit. Nor can you use skill or cunning. This will be one place you will not escape, Colonel. It would be wise for you to accept this now, rather than denying the truth." Maldo's face was as close as it could get to the door to Jack's portion of the joined cage. Jack leaned forward; his face just as close to the door as Maldo's was on the other side. It was a long while before he said anything.  
  
"Bite me," O'Neill said finally, his voice reeking of sarcasm, but using the same calm Maldo assumed. The robed man half-smiled, wryly, and then left, leaving Jack to wonder what was in store for Sam.  
  
@  
  
It was now Tuesday on Earth - one day had passed since Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter had left for P4C 237. General Hammond was beginning to get concerned for them. The mission was only to be a few hours, possibly ten hours at the very most - but a whole day had passed now. It was far too long.  
  
"General," Sergeant Davis said as he entered Hammond's office. The General looked up.  
  
"Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter have been gone exactly twenty-four hours now, Sir. What would you like us to do?"  
  
Hammond stood up and walked out from his office to the Control Room with Sergeant Davis in toe. "Send a MALP through to P4C 237 and relay a message to them," the General instructed. "We'll go from there."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Davis responded. "Prepare the MALP."  
  
The Gate being over a two-hour walk away from the village Jack and Sam were now held captive in, the SGC received no response from their missing personnel. When the wormhole disengaged, Hammond went back to his office with his mind reeling. What could possibly have happened to them? At the moment, it wasn't a matter of what; it was a matter of who.  
  
@  
  
Sam had been gone over three hours and Jack was really beginning to worry. Being confined inside of a cage wasn't helping matters for the impatient man, but his second in command being gone for this long was worse in comparison.  
  
Over three hours before, when Sam had been taken away by Maldo and his guards, she'd been taken to be redressed. A small tent of women with handmade clothing, much the same as their own, told Sam to be quiet and gave her the clothes to wear. At first, Sam was reluctant, but the more she cooperated, the more the women talked to her about their unruly sovereign. They spoke of the generation before and Maldo the Fifth. Spoke of the change in Maldo the Sixth, how after the war he had become a different man. It was then Sam told the women of the Goa'uld. She explained to them what they were like, what they did and that she had once possessed one. She added the fact that she could now sense the presence of the Goa'uld, and that when Maldo was in the room, she had felt the presence of a Goa'uld symbiote. The women were initially disbelieving, but the more Sam explained, the more they believed. After some time in the tent of women, Sam was taken away to another group of women working in a field. This planet was much the same as P3X 593. Women appeared to be evicted from the main parts of the village and worked out in the fields and other places. The women were there to serve. That was all. Sam's ankles were chained together by a small length of chain that was padlocked, giving her just enough freedom to walk without falling. All the women working in the field were monitored by guards at the boundary of the field. They were instructed that they were only to stop work when the suns went down. On P4C 237, there were two suns and two moons. When the first moon rose, they were permitted to stop working and sleep in their homes until the next morning when the first sun rose. Then, they were back to work again. The same routine continued for six days of the week. There were only six days in a week on P4C 237. One day every two weeks, a few women were allowed to stay at home and rest. Every woman had one day off for every fortnight. That was their only time off work, aside from the night time when they were so exhausted they could barely stay awake long enough to eat something.  
  
After two days of being left alone in the cell without food and only the occasional cup of water, Jack was taken to Maldo. He had decided that Jack would be a perfect assistant. There were several servants that remained around Maldo all day long. It was their only job. Their ankles were chained together with enough length to move; much the same were their wrists. There were no worries of the servants escaping. The last one to escape had been captured and brought back to Maldo within hours and tortured to death. All other servants were required to oversee the torture, as a lesson to them of what would happen if they tried the same thing. From then on, no servant had ever again tried to escape.  
  
Jack's job was simple on the surface. Do everything Maldo said, when he said it, without being slow or defiant, and he could live to see another day. However, this relatively simple job was made excruciatingly difficult with a leader such as Maldo, and having jobs to do whilst he had his servants' ankles and wrists chained in case they tried anything. He had his servants fanning him from the heat, scrubbing the floors on their hands and knees, cleaning the animal enclosures, polishing his dress shoes, washing his clothes and a score of other tasks with new ones being added daily. Sometimes each hour if his mood was particularly bad. These tasks may have seemed petty, but when they were assessed after they were finished, it made it difficult. If everything was not as Maldo saw fit, the job would either be repeated, the servant would go without food for days, they would be chained in a cell for a week, or - and this happened most often - they would receive a beating that left them in such pain they could barely open their eyes.  
  
Maldo was the most unforgiving leader the people of P4C 237 had ever seen. The end of his reign was well anticipated, but having his followers guarding him at all times, the villagers were far too frightened to approach him or attempt to murder him. If unsuccessful, their punishment would be unimaginable, and to the villagers, it just wasn't worth the risk. 


	4. Diffrences And Similarities

Chapter 2 - Differences and Similarities  
  
P4C 237 was so similar to Earth it almost frightened Sam. Granted, there weren't the housing arrangements or skyscrapers in cities, or cars, but the resemblance to their everyday activities was incredible. Sam was working in a field with one hundred or so other women, picking fruits, some that looked remarkably like grapes. The women all wore wide- brimmed hats to shield their eyes from the burning suns as they worked. Large bamboo baskets on the ground were cases for the grapes once they were picked. When a basket was filled, it was taken to the outskirts of the field to the guards there. Sam was glad there was no overdone blue dresses here, like on P3X 593, but the clothes the women did wear certainly weren't made for style. The plain browns and beiges didn't do the women any justice, and the styles of the dresses weren't extravagant, but they had no choice in the matter. The women didn't have any meaning to the men of this planet. They were no more than the animals were. In fact, the animals probably received better treatment in comparison.  
  
"Hey," Sam whispered across to the woman standing a few meters to her right. With fear in her eyes, the woman ignored Sam.  
  
"Hey," Sam repeated, hoping for a response, but the woman continued with her work, pretending she couldn't hear. "C'mon," Sam begged, "if we whisper, they can't hear us."  
  
"Please," the woman hissed, "do not speak to me anymore."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"The guards will surely hear us."  
  
"Not if we're quiet."  
  
"They will hear us and they will beat us. Please, quiet now."  
  
The woman was young. Her long brown hair was mattered and unclean, tied back in a brown ribbon. Her clothes were dirty with soil and blood. Her pale skin was smudged with dirt and decorated in dark bruises and abrasions. Her cheeks had cuts spattered on them, spoiling her pretty face. Sam shuffled further along the line of vines, toward the woman. "Has it always been like this here?" she asked the woman as she continued to work, pleading in her mind that Sam would not get them into trouble.  
  
"No."  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Myra."  
  
"Hey, Myra," Sam smiled. "I'm Sam."  
  
"You were not here for the last Transition," Myra stated, taking her first look at Sam. Sam's skin was not quite as dirty as Myra's yet, nor did she have the cuts and bruises, but Myra could see that Sam was friendly, and wanted to help, just by her eyes.  
  
"Transition?" Sam tried to guess what it could have been by saying it aloud, but Myra knew she would not be able to.  
  
"You are new here," Myra told Sam.  
  
Sam nodded. "Yeah," she smiled. "What is the Transition?"  
  
"It is the changing of the tasks," Myra explained. "When all groups move to difference sections of work. You were not present when that took place. That is why you have been assigned here."  
  
A guard appeared at the end of the row Sam and Myra were positioned. Myra's eyes caught the shining of the guards' sword and she quickly turned back to her work, motioning with her eyes to tell Sam what she could see. Sam understood and mirrored Myra's action. The guard took a long while to leave, but once gone they returned to talking. "Has it always been like this here?" Sam asked, although she had a fair idea that it hadn't been by what the women in the tent had told her.  
  
"Most certainly not," Myra replied. "The day of the war was far too long ago for me to have been, but I know from the legends that Maldo was once far different to this."  
  
"Maldo, that's your leader, isn't it?"  
  
"Leader if you choose to name him so. His leadership has never been welcomed." "What happened in the war?"  
  
Myra's eyes darted about quickly, surveying their surroundings. Talking about the war wasn't something the villagers made a habit of. "Maldo declared war on another peaceful planet, as the legend goes. This planet was never a threat, but he set war upon them and wiped them out entirely. Then he claimed their planet as his own. To this day, it belongs to him. No one knows why he wanted it or why he chose to invade them, but since that day, his people have resented him. That is why he has sent us into slavery. It was the only way he could make us remain, my sister tells me."  
  
"So you all tried to overthrow him?"  
  
"It is said that a small group were brave enough to face his power."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And for it they were all tortured and murdered."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Why are you two not working?!" An angry voice hollered at them.  
  
Myra's head lowered.  
  
Sam turned around to see a stocky guard approaching them, brandishing his sword. "Oh dear," Sam breathed as the guard grabbed her by the hair at the very top of her head, pushing her to her knees. The ground was damp from past rain and her knees sunk into it slightly.  
  
"You will be punished for your idleness!" the Guard shouted angrily and began to drag Sam away.  
  
Myra closed her eyes in sympathy. She felt awful for not being honest with the guard and telling him she was talking too, but she'd been punished so often lately for no reason that she could take no more. She had warned Sam not to talk to her, in fear of punishment. Now Sam would discover how brutal a punishment on P4C 237 was, and regret ever speaking to Myra. Myra prayed they were lenient on her for it being her first time and one of her first days working. Unfortunately for Myra and even more so for Sam, they were not.  
  
The whip lashed another unforgiving strike against her bleeding back. Sam had forgotten how many times they'd hit that whip against her back now, but it had been going on long enough as far as she was concerned. Her screams surely would have been heard on Earth, she was in such pain. Another lash from the whip ripped one more section of her clothing. Each time the whip struck her at its brutal velocity, it tore through more of her clothing and to her flesh to leave it exposed as the blood ran from the deep lesions left behind. For more than fifteen minutes, Sam's painful screams echoed through the torture chamber before she lost consciousness and the guards decided she'd had enough and left her there.  
  
A few minutes later, Jack was sent to clean the torture chamber before the next victim's arrival. The darkness of the room shadowed Sam away from sight as Jack closed the door behind him and uncovered one window. The light streamed in as a bar through the small square window and following the bar's peak, Jack discovered a small shadow, recognizing it as the body of a human being. He frowned. "I thought I was cleaning the room," he muttered, approaching the motionless body. "Carter," he stated worriedly as she moved and groaned. Jack knelt beside Sam and put a hand to her forehead.  
  
"Colonel?" Sam's distorted voice mumbled .  
  
"You don't look so good," O'Neill commented as he helped Carter to sit. She whimpered quietly and leaned against the wall for support.  
  
"Colonel," she said again and moved as pain stung her back from leaning on the wall, reminding her of her injuries.  
  
Jack noticed Sam's pained expression and the way she moved her back away from the wall. "What'd they do to you?" he asked in concern.  
  
Sam didn't have the strength to answer, but she indicated to her back. "Mind if I take a look?" O'Neill queried. Carter shook her head.  
  
Jack certainly didn't need to look far to find the lesions through the ripped material. "What was this for?" he asked, his hate for this planet growing with each second that passed by.  
  
"Talking."  
  
"You got in trouble for that before me?"  
  
This managed to bring a smile to the Major's lips briefly as she slipped to one side, leaning on her Colonel. Neither of them knew what to do from there. Jack didn't know whether to do his job before the guards came and he was punished, but he knew he didn't want to just leave his Second in Command this way. Sam didn't know whether to let her CO continue his work before he got into trouble, or stay the way she was, with him. She couldn't deny that although she was in terrible pain, being with the only person on this planet she knew, she felt secure. She couldn't bare the thought of going back to work like she'd been doing. Being with her Colonel now made her happy enough that her pain didn't seem so bad.  
  
Jack had worried endlessly about where his 2IC had been for the days he'd been alone in that cell. Now finding her this way, made being away from her for so long much worse. They both knew that if they stayed much longer on this planet they would both end up with injuries like all of the other villagers. That they'd rarely see each other and slowly become, as all the other villagers were - subservient. Jack knew that when the guards came to see if he'd cleaned the chamber properly he would be in hot water, but now he had to worry about his Major, not his own punishment for neglecting his work. "Colonel," Sam said. "You better do your job."  
  
"It can wait, Carter," Jack replied.  
  
Sam bit at her lip, trying not to cry in pain. She could feel her CO's hand resting softly on her shoulder, doing his best to comfort her. She knew he'd be in a lot of trouble when the guards found them, but she needed some kind of comfort and his was the best kind as far as she was concerned.  
  
"Sir," she persisted, "you've got to do your work."  
  
"Anyone would think you wanted me to go," he smiled.  
  
"I just don't want you to get into trouble because of me."  
  
"You shouldn't be here."  
  
"But I am. Please, Colonel. Do your job before the guards come."  
  
After a brief moment of silence, the guards came in to find Jack and Sam. "Insolence!" they cried and yanked Jack to his feet by his hair. Sam slid off his lap and sat up quickly. The comfort time she'd had with her CO, although short, had helped. The pain wasn't as bad. The guards dragged Jack from the chamber carelessly. Sam scrambled to catch them up but was hit in the face by the butt of a club and fell back to the ground clutching her head.  
  
@  
  
As the guards entered the throne room, Maldo instantly spotted his new prisoner being dragged by his first prime, Lopbell. "What is the meaning of this?" Maldo demanded as they dropped Jack by his feet.  
  
"He was found with the other one," Lopbell explained. "His duties had been neglected."  
  
"I see."  
  
Maldo clicked his fingers twice and every person in the throne room departed. One young boy remained.  
  
"Have I asked that you remain?" Maldo questioned sharply.  
  
The young boy's eyes widened in fear. He shook his head quickly. "No master," he replied shakily, eyeing the medical supplies he'd left behind a large chair before moving to leave.  
  
"Then why do you remain?"  
  
The boy froze. He bit his tongue so hard it hurt and found his body shivering nervously.  
  
"LEAVE!" Maldo shouted.  
  
The boy jumped slightly backwards at Maldo's loudness and froze even more than before.  
  
"Leave the poor kid alone," Jack broke the silence and stood up finally. Maldo's dark eyes rolled slowly towards O'Neill and narrowed.  
  
The young boy ran from the room, terrified. Maldo's head joined his eyes in facing O'Neill. Jack wasn't afraid of Maldo. He had a loud voice and a snake in his head as Sam had told him, but otherwise he was just another power-hungry warmonger. Maldo's eyes gave Jack a once over, as if to see if he was stupid enough to challenge him - the mighty Maldo.  
  
"I'm not like that boy," Jack said matter-of-factly, "or the rest of the people you think you can control."  
  
"You are incorrect," Maldo contradicted him, "I do not think I can control them. I do control them."  
  
"Where do you guys get off thinking you're so important?" Jack snapped.  
  
"I do not think I am important," Maldo smiled evilly.  
  
"No, of course you don't. You are."  
  
"You are a fast learner."  
  
"Years of experience," Jack retorted.  
  
"Listen, as fun as this big party you have here is, I'm really not in the action, if you know what I mean. So, how about you let me and Carter just go back home and leave you and your servants to whatever it is you do. You can sit in here and be all-important and they can die out there being servants. Wadda ya say?"  
  
Maldo's eerie smile indented itself as he slowly stood up and walked to stand a few inches in front of Jack. Maldo clicked his fingers once. Lopbell entered the room. He stood behind Jack with his swords' tip resting on the Colonel's neck. Maldo grabbed the hair at the back of Jack's head and wrenched his head backwards at a painful angle. Placing his face unnaturally close to Jack's, Maldo hissed: "You shall die on this planet before I will release you." Lopbell smiled with hatred as Maldo released his grip.  
  
"Take him to the torture chamber and make him suffer," Maldo ordered his first prime with contempt and left.  
  
Lopbell couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he called for two other guards and they dragged O'Neill back to the torture chamber.  
  
Sam still sat in the corner of the room. No one had bothered to take her back to her work and Maldo had instructed the guards to leave her there to watch her friend's torture. Therefore, silently, Sam sat trying not to hear the cracking of the whip against her CO's back or the thump that was Lopbell's fist and club colliding with O'Neill's face and body. Unfortunately for Sam, her ears picked up on every sound she didn't want to hear. Carter dragged her knees up to meet her forehead, burying her face against her legs and covering her ears with her hands. Her breathing was loud, surrounding her. Sam gasped as her Colonel's body hit the ground with a loud thud. She squeezed her eyes shut as Lopbell dragged O'Neill back up with a creepy, satisfied laugh. It seemed to go on for hours. When Lopbell decided he'd had enough, he and the other guards left, without bothering to move Sam. When they were gone, Sam moved quickly to her CO's side.  
  
"Colonel?" she whispered. For a moment, he didn't move and Sam feared for him.  
  
"Sir?" she persisted, desperation becoming evident by her tone as she searched for a pulse.  
  
A slight groan and some movement told her that he was alive at least. An emphatic sigh of relief released itself from Sam's half open mouth. Resting her hand on Jack's forehead as he gradually turned over, Sam discovered nothing unusual and was glad.  
  
Jack brushed her hand away and Sam put her hand softly but firmly on his shoulder as he struggled to sit up. "I don't think you should move just yet, Sir."  
  
"Why?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual.  
  
"I just think it would be better for you to lie down. Please, Colonel."  
  
Ignoring the advice, with a frown of pain, Jack - with Sam's help - moved to lean against a wall for Sam to give him a once over. Sam didn't like what she found. His back was in no better condition than her own and Lopbell's club work had produced a few broken ribs, along with a dislocated knee. Overall, Sam's worry had increased, tenfold. "How long have you been in here?" Jack asked, trying to find a comfortable position where pain was minimal.  
  
"I haven't left," Sam replied. "They left me in here while they." Words seemed to die in her throat.  
  
"Oh," Jack saved her the trouble of trying to say what he already knew she meant. Sam thanked him with half-smile.  
  
He understood. Sam and Jack had always had a silence between them. It seemed they could tell each other so many things without saying a word. It was an appreciation, and neither of them really understood it. Somehow, they could see what the other meant without needing an explanation or apology. Gratitude was never spoken between them, but was always there. A complete understanding of one another was present in each their own mind, but never said aloud. Somehow, they were connected. It wasn't something either of them had anticipated happening, but it had and they both knew it was special. Neither of them questioned it, or wondered about it. It was just there.  
  
"Carter," Jack broke the long silence . Sam's eyes met his. Even in the dark room, she could see something strong burning in his eyes. Something serious. Somehow, Sam thought, I don't think I'm going to like this.  
  
"Yes, Sir?"  
  
"I want you to get out of here."  
  
"I like that idea, Sir," Sam agreed, without a thought to Jack's meaning.  
  
"No, Carter," Jack said, almost lowly, "I want you to get out of here."  
  
Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean that I want you to leave me here and go."  
  
"No, Sir," Sam snapped back quickly. There was no way she was going anywhere without her CO. Whatever happens, no one gets left behind.  
  
"Anyway, Sir, with all due respect, I really don't think it's possible to get out of here. There are too many guards."  
  
"Not out in the village."  
  
"They're everywhere."  
  
"Not out there. Trust me, I've looked."  
  
"Ok," Sam played along for a moment, "even if there are no guards in the village, surely there's a guard outside this door. And if there's not, it would be impossible to get completely out of the village without at least one of them seeing us."  
  
Normally, Jack would have agreed with Sam - but this was different. He'd looked around a lot. Talked to people. In his few days of work, he'd learned a lot. He knew Sam could get out of the village without being seen, and he knew it for sure. "Actually, you're wrong about that."  
  
Jack was beginning to feel bad about asking his 2IC to do this. He knew she wouldn't want to go, and he understood that, but it just wasn't fair to keep her here when it was going to be fairly easy for her to get away. She didn't deserve to stay and die. This was an opportunity that probably wouldn't arise again.  
  
"Sir?" Sam queried the statement. What was he getting at? "There's no guard outside the door," Jack clarified, his voice gradually lowering.  
  
"There're barely any guards in the village at all today. It should be easy to get away."  
  
"Then we can both go," Sam said eagerly.  
  
Jack shook his head slowly. "No," he disputed, "no, we can't."  
  
"Why not, Sir?" Sam was getting more confused and scared as her CO went on with his proposal. Why was he making her leave? Would he make her? Why was he doing this?  
  
"Because you'll need to run to the Gate, to make sure that the guards can't catch up with you when they realise you're gone."  
  
"The Gate's over a two hour walk."  
  
"That's why I found out about a shorter route."  
  
"Sir, how long have you been planning this?" Jack looked up from the ground.  
  
Sam's eyes penetrated deep. She needed to understand. Jack needed for her to go. The longer she stayed, the harder he knew it would be to watch her go.  
  
"Between the last house and the forest there's a track. It leads to the gate and cuts the time almost in half. If you take that and run, you'll be there in less than an hour," Jack ignored Sam's question. He couldn't answer her.  
  
"Colonel, I won't leave you here," Sam repeated firmly.  
  
O'Neill swallowed hard. "Don't make me order you to go, Carter," he pleaded.  
  
"I will not go without you, Colonel," she didn't let up. There was no way Sam was going to leave without her CO. There was just no way.  
  
"I'll order you to go, Carter."  
  
"Colonel, why are you doing this? We can both make it out of here. With a short-cut, it'll be easy, we'll just."  
  
"You're not gonna talk me out of this," Jack stopped Sam short.  
  
She fixed her eyes onto him, trying to make him relent, but she saw he was right. He wasn't going to let up. He was set on his decision. Why had he made it, though? "It's not that far, Colonel, we can make it."  
  
"No, we can't. I can't run, Carter. This is going to be one of very few chances you'll get to do this. I'm not gonna slow you down. You've got to go alone."  
  
"Why?" Sam persisted. "Sir, if we both go and take it slowly, I can help you, we can both go."  
  
"You can barely run on your own," Jack reminded her.  
  
"We'll take it slow. We'll help each other. I won't go, Colonel."  
  
"You can't afford to lose time by taking it slow. When they notice you're gone and ask me about it, I can stall them. Buy you some time. I can't go, Carter. You know I can't."  
  
Sam's eyes buried themselves in the darkness. She heard Jack coughing and saw him wipe blood from his hand. She knew what that meant. Knew it wasn't good. Sam bent her head low and shadowed her face. She knew. It didn't hurt to know, but it hurt that she knew he wanted her to go. She knew he wasn't thinking of himself, he was thinking of her, and she wished he wouldn't always do that. She also knew it would be harder for them both to go when they were both injured. Sam knew she was going to have trouble making it. She was weak and still in pain, and she knew Jack was worse.  
  
"I don't want to go, Colonel," Sam whispered, so quietly even she barely heard her own voice.  
  
"It's better if you do," Jack told her, keeping his voice soft and even.  
  
Sam sniffed. She felt like she could cry. Her back was still stinging from the whipping. The cuts and lesions seemed to burn more while she was so upset. "Don't make me go," she almost begged, looking up from the ground with tears glistening in her eyes.  
  
Jack tried to find something comforting to say. Something that would make it seem like a good idea. Something maybe even he would believe.  
  
"It'll probably only be for a little while anyway," he tried to believe his own words as he spoke them. "When you get back and tell Hammond about the slavery happening here, who knows? He'll probably send a team in to try to negotiate with these people. Free them all. That'll include me."  
  
Sam watched her CO trying to smile - trying to give her hope with his words. Something about it made her know he didn't believe what he was telling her. That he was just trying to make her believe.  
  
"What if the General doesn't do that?" she asked the obvious. "What if he says it's too dangerous and that you'll have to find your own way out or stay here? What if that happens?"  
  
"Then I'll just have to get out myself, later. Hopefully, it won't be that hard."  
  
They sat in silence for a brief moment. Sam was still trying to find faults in his plan. Jack was still trying to find ways to reassure her he'd be ok. For both of them, their attempts were failing. At least for a little while.  
  
"I can't go, Sir," Sam said suddenly.  
  
"Yes, you can," Jack dismissed her claim without an explanation.  
  
"No, I can't; I haven't got a GDO." With this one, Sam smiled on the inside. She was right; Maldo had taken their GDO's from them when they were stripped of their weapons.  
  
When Jack reached into his pocket, Sam's heart sank.  
  
"I managed to get one," he said and handed it to her.  
  
O'Neill watched Carter take the GDO from him with hesitation and then look up to him with desperation written on her face. He knew she didn't want to go, but there was no way he was going to allow her to stay. Sam saw pain give her CO a reminder as his face expressed it.  
  
"Please, Colonel," Sam begged, "please."  
  
"Don't make me order you to go, Carter." 


	5. Unable To Stay, Unwilling To Leave

Chapter 3 - Unable To Stay, Unwilling To Leave  
  
Sam nibbled at her top lip; trying to find something else wrong with the plan her CO had presented her. Leave this planet, with this evil man Maldo, and leave her CO here. Sam was willing to admit she hated it here and that she would give almost anything to be able to leave, but she was unable to make a decision. She knew what she wanted, but she couldn't have it. She sniffed again, trying to make herself do what she knew she had to. She had to leave her CO behind and go. Maybe she didn't even have to do that, but something told her she needed to do what he asked. If it was the last time she was to see her Colonel, she at least wanted to be doing something he asked her to do. Even if it wasn't something she wanted to do.  
  
"I don't want to leave you here, Jack," she murmured, using his name for emphasis.  
  
Jack watched Sam lower her head again to mind the ground with her eyes. He wanted to find an alternative - some other idea that was better - but in his heart, he knew there was no such idea. It was his duty, he felt, as her CO and as a friend, to give her a better chance. And who knows, Jack thought hopefully, maybe Hammond will send a team out here. Somehow, he didn't believe that.  
  
"I don't want to do this," he admitted, "but I'm ordering you to go, Sam."  
  
That was twice they'd used their names when addressing each other. They never used their names.  
  
"Then I'm refusing to leave," Carter said stubbornly, pursing her lips and gritting her teeth.  
  
"It's," O'Neill hesitated, "it's not as important if I don't go back."  
  
"Colonel, that's - "  
  
"Please," he interrupted, "let me finish."  
  
Sam nodded silently. "It's not as important because, I'm just another officer. Just another soldier. Just another Colonel. There's not many Astrophysicists around. They're not gonna miss me if I'm gone, Carter. They'll suffer if you're not there."  
  
Sam's eyes gathered more tears and she frowned painfully. "Do you actually believe that?" she asked incredulously.  
  
"Yeah," Jack replied quietly, "yeah, I do."  
  
"You're just as important as I am. You're one of the best soldiers in that place. General Hammond knows that. He relies on your opinion so much. Everyone would notice if you were gone, Colonel."  
  
"Just - just go, Carter," Jack paused. "Please."  
  
Sam licked her lips and swallowed thickly. This was it. She had to go now. There was no more time to waste, for either of them. They'd already wasted a lot of valuable time. They'd been lucky so far, but their luck would run out. "Say hi to General Hammond for me," Jack said as he indicated towards the door with a nod of his head.  
  
Sam nodded dismally, standing up uncomfortably. "The last house," she reminded herself, while asking her Colonel at the same time.  
  
He nodded and reiterated her last two words. "Last house."  
  
A moment of uncomfortable silence sent echoes through Sam's mind as she stared down at her CO on the ground. "I'll make sure General Hammond sends a team back here, Sir," she said, a determined shine to her eyes.  
  
Sam made her way toward the door slowly and opened it just enough to see the coast was clear outside for now. She turned her head to her CO, who was on the ground by her, holding the door slightly ajar with one hand. Something in their silence said everything they wanted to say to one another. Without a thought, Sam knelt on the ground and wrapped her arms around her Colonel. This was something she'd had trouble dealing with before, but that had been different. He wasn't asking her to leave the planet then, even if they had known it was Earth and there were no hostiles. He just had a broken leg. Admittedly, the chances of survival, for both of them, hadn't been good, but there'd been no one in Antarctica like Maldo. This was so different to then. Something about it, made it worse. In Jack's arms, Sam felt safe. It made her want to stay even more. After a moment, they separated and Sam knew she had to go.  
  
Jack tried to smile encouragingly for her. It didn't work. "I'd say good luck, but you don't need it," he said confidently.  
  
It made Sam's spirits lift slightly. "Thank you," she said simply and then turned to leave. Giving one last check to the immediate vicinity, Carter nodded to herself and pushed the door open.  
  
Taking the first stride away from the chamber and her CO was the hardest, physically and emotionally, but Sam promised herself to be strong. She'd always managed to be before, and she could stay that way now. Jack, through a gap in the door, watched Sam walk away into the minimal activity created by the villagers. He caught one last glimpse of her face as she turned back to catch one last glimpse of his. They shared in a brief smile through the gap in the door, trying to both be positive in their own minds. Positive vibes amiss, they tried to draw hope from each other.  
  
As Sam reached the track her Colonel had told her to follow, she looked back to what she'd left behind. The chamber was far out of view by now, but she'd focussed her mind on it so well that it may as well have been on Earth, for to her, it was right beside her.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered under her breath and then took the track to the Stargate in as quick a pace as she could manage without tiring herself out before reaching it. Once back to the SGC, back home, Sam heard General Hammond's first words. The words she'd told herself he was going to say. The words she knew everyone was thinking.  
  
"Where is Colonel O'Neill?"  
  
@  
  
In the Infirmary, General Hammond stood beside the bed Sam had been given. Janet reminded her that she had to stay in the Infirmary for at least a day. Hammond's eyes were distant - deeply thoughtful. He stared unblinkingly at the ground. Sam waited for him to speak. "I need to know exactly what happened, Major," he said finally, looking up with a deep stare.  
  
Fraiser left the room; the uncomfortable vibes released from the General made her uneasy. Sam nodded and began to tell the General all about what had transpired between her and her CO and Maldo the Sixth. The explanation took far longer than either anticipated, but once completed, Hammond understood the situation. Understood how Jack's mind worked and how he'd made his decision to send Sam home while she had the chance. But the planet itself sounded like a risky rescue mission to attempt. Something about it told Hammond to scrub it. Then his conscience reminded him of who that man was. What he'd done in the past and even now. It hurt Hammond to think he didn't want to risk others' lives in the attempt to save another, but it also hurt to think that he was considering leaving Jack there.  
  
"General, you have to send a team back," Sam insisted while Hammond's brow creased further in concentration and thought.  
  
"Let me think about this one, Major," he said. "It would be a risky mission."  
  
"General, you don't understand!" Sam's voice rose higher than she intended, but she was desperate. She wouldn't let the General say no to this one. It just wasn't an option. "We can't just leave Colonel O'Neill there. You don't know what those people are like."  
  
Hammond's face registered the plea, but he had others to consider, as much as it was a drawback. He would have gone himself; only he didn't want to send anyone into unpredictable conditions like that. No one. He saw the desperation in the Major's eyes. She needed for him to let this happen.  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of, Major," he admitted tonelessly and then left. Sam sunk back into her bed. The sheets made rustling sounds like leaves as she crumpled them down around her. Sam punched the empty mattress space beside her. She couldn't understand the determination she had bubbling up inside her, but it was fierce as the eyes of a murderer. It made her angry as well as emotional and impatient.  
  
Janet left her other patients and wandered over to Sam. The doctor noticed that Sam's eyes were closed but she was not relaxed. Her fist was tensed beside her and her features were coarse in her irritation. Fraiser pulled up a chair beside the bed, resting her fingers lightly on Sam's clenched fist. Carter's eyes opened immediately, but her agitation faded and slowly slipped away when she saw the good doctor's friendly smile. "How are you holding up, Sam?" Janet asked gently. Her voice was not demanding, but calm and concerned. Sam attempted a half-smile for her friend. Fraiser saw it slide, but noted she tried.  
  
"I'm ok," Carter lied.  
  
Janet nodded. "Sure," she said.  
  
"When can I go?" Sam asked quickly. She needed to be involved in the proceedings. It was important to her that she was contributing to her CO's rescue. Janet smiled at her, but knew it wasn't the smile Sam wanted to see.  
  
"Give it a day," Fraiser replied, trying to sound firm but not pushy.  
  
Sam sighed emphatically, and a little irritably. "Come on, Janet," she persisted, "you know I need to be involved here."  
  
"I do know that, yes," Janet agreed, "but I also know that you've got some pretty nasty lesions and bruising where you were tortured. You need to rest up for at least a day, if not a few more."  
  
"You can't make me stay here that long, Janet," Sam pleaded and dictated at the same time. "I can't stay in here that long."  
  
"I assure you, you can," Janet smiled, almost wickedly, "and you will."  
  
Sam drew a serious note. She wasn't kidding about needing to be involved. She could not stay in the Infirmary while she didn't know what was happening to her CO. "Janet." Sam's voice grew quiet. No longer dictating. Now she was asking. Begging. Desperation evident. "Please."  
  
Janet's eyes grew deep with understanding. She knew that Sam wanted desperately to be caught up in the action, but the doctor inside Fraiser remained strong and relentless. Sam had to stay in the Infirmary for at least a day. It wasn't optional. "Sam, I know what you're saying."  
  
"But you still won't let me go, right?"  
  
Janet frowned sadly, trying to say sorry with her eyes and her expression. It was clear to her, however, that Sam wasn't satisfied with that alone.  
  
"I'm sorry," Fraiser said quietly, lowering her head as she disappointed her friend and she knew it.  
  
Sam watched the doctor leave and felt an aching pain in the pit of her stomach grow. She sighed deeply and slid further into her bed, so she was lying down. Slowly forcing her eyes closed, she saw the repeating images of her walking away from the chamber her CO stayed in to watch her go. The torture she'd heard him endure before that. The scenes played themselves again and again, pounding at her eyes like a drum. She could feel her mouth turning out - eyes building up with tears. How could she have left him there like that? He may have told her to go, but that was no excuse. She shouldn't have gone. Tears began to slip from the corners of Sam's closed eyes.  
  
Whatever happens, no one gets left behind.  
  
@  
  
The next day took a long time to come for Sam, but when it did, it wasn't all she'd hoped for. Her back still burned with pain from the torture, and her chest stung slightly when breathing. Janet asked her how she felt the moment she woke up, but Sam knew she had to lie for the doctor to let her out of the Infirmary. "I feel fine, Janet. Honestly."  
  
"If you're lying to me, Sam - "  
  
"Janet, I'm not lying."  
  
"I've heard that one before."  
  
Fraiser gave her friend the scrutinizing eye before agreeing to let her leave, on the proviso that she returned later in the day to be checked over. Sam readily agreed and left the Infirmary quicker than Janet had time to blink in.  
  
The Control Room was filled with a tension nobody questioned. Everyone was uptight and sharp. Eyes darted through the room like arrows and words were magnified by the stress. Hammond still hadn't said anything about whether or not the rescue mission was to go ahead. Everyone anticipated his decision. Nobody more than Sam. She knocked lightly on his door, almost afraid to interrupt him. He answered quietly, his voice clouded by concentration, contemplation. "Come."  
  
"General," Sam began before she'd fully opened the door, "I don't want to alter your decision, I really don't, but I need for you to allow this mission."  
  
Hammond's eyes told Sam the answer before he opened his mouth. She wanted to scream, but knew it would prove useless. "I'm sorry, Major," he said earnestly. She could see he meant it. This was hard for him to do, but harder for her to hear. "I can't authorize a rescue mission."  
  
"General, no!" Sam exclaimed, striding towards his desk. "You can't do that." "I'm sorry," Hammond repeated.  
  
Sam could hear the strain in his voice. She didn't know what else to say. He couldn't be serious. Couldn't do this to his second in command. How could he be serious? How could he do this? "General, is there something more to this than you're willing to tell me?" Sam asked, sitting down in anticipation.  
  
Hammond's eyes recognised her suspicion. He couldn't hide it from Carter. She would figure it out eventually. He would have to tell the whole base eventually. "More than you know, Major," Hammond admitted with a sigh.  
  
"I know it's probably something you're not allowed to talk about, Sir, but."  
  
"Close the door, Major and I'll explain."  
  
Sam did as she was asked then returned to her seat in front of the General's desk. "General?" she prompted after a long moment of silence.  
  
He slowly looked up to her. This is something big, Sam thought. "The President and Joint Chiefs made a call, a few weeks ago," Hammond began slowly. "They've got complete control over what happens here now. We're costing them too much. Their superior skills are going to save money. Apparently." It took Sam a while to take this in.  
  
"You mean they make all the decisions?" she asked.  
  
"They decide on everything. Whether or not SG-1 will take a mission, or whether the commissary will have imported coffee. Everything."  
  
"Are you saying they won't allow a rescue mission?"  
  
"They find the planet to be hostile, therefore they see no reason to jeopardise any lives in order to save one."  
  
"General," Sam said contemplatively, "with all due respect, what they don't know won't hurt them, will it?"  
  
"I agree, Major," Hammond replied, much to Sam's surprise.  
  
"So then we can go ahead with - "  
  
"Unfortunately," the General interrupted, "they now have monitors on our computers. Any address we type into our computer, they know about it. They authorise every mission now. As much as I want to disregard their orders on this one, I just can't risk it, Major. I'm sorry."  
  
Sam stood up to pace around a bit, but her legs didn't want to hold her up and forced her to sit back down. Her psyche didn't want to let her cry, but her eyes did. She looked down at her shaky hands. Why did she feel so emotional about this? Hammond watched Carter as she sat staring down at her hands. He could see she was shaking. Had he made the wrong decision? Could he afford to disobey this order? Sam's eyelids dropped. "I shouldn't have left," she sobbed.  
  
Hammond joined her on the opposite side of his desk. Sitting on the chair next to her, he wrapped an arm around her back. "I shouldn't have left him there, General," Sam cried.  
  
"Do you really believe he'd blame you?" the General asked, knowing she knew the answer. "He told you to leave because he thought it was best for you. You know what he's like. He wouldn't have taken no for an answer."  
  
"I know, but I - "  
  
"So don't beat yourself up about this."  
  
"What about Colonel O'Neill, General?" Sam asked, looking up and wiping her eyes with the back of her right hand.  
  
"He'll find a way out, Major," Hammond smiled. "He always does." Sam nodded. Somehow, she didn't believe he could make it out of this one.  
  
After Sam had left, Hammond moved back to his usual chair on the right side of his desk. "I hope he finds a way out," he murmured. 


	6. Yet To Come

Chapter 4 - Yet To Come  
  
In the early hours of the morning, Lopbell dragged Jack to Maldo. The leader sat proud in his largely over decorated chair, his role of leadership unquestionable. "Leave it here," he said smarmily as Lopbell and his other guard dropped O'Neill by Maldo's feet.  
  
Jack wasn't even granted the privilege of being labelled a human. He was unworthy, and therefore, merely a possession. 'It' referred to him. After Sam left, Jack was treated, as best he could be, by an insider. One of the guards had a brief knowledge of medicine and often helped the torture victims immediately after their torture. Before they even left the chamber. Jack was another of them. His injuries had been fairly severe in comparison to the usual torture, but the medic had done as best he could for the Colonel. Putting his knee in place again and tending to some of the lesions. It had been a hurried job, but Jack had been grateful for it.  
  
"Leave us," Maldo said to the guards and they left. Maldo wrenched Jack to his knees by his chin. "Where is the other one?"  
  
Jack's eyes slowly pried themselves open and he saw the blurred face of Maldo. Once the guards had found that Sam was gone, they'd gone straight to the source. Jack was beaten for a second time. The guards had no time for reasoning or interrogation. It seemed the only way these people knew how to obtain information - torture first, ask questions later. Torture had come first, and now it was Maldo's job to ask the questions. Maldo's temper began to rise above boiling point and his captive gave away no information. No indication of anything at all. No answers.  
  
"Where is the other?!" Maldo demanded angrily, raising his voice to a pitch that didn't seem to be his own. His face creased into an livid frown and his eyes darkened beyond explanation. The intensity of his gaze almost hurt for Jack.  
  
"Where is it?!"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack lied, his own voice weak, insignificant next to Maldo's.  
  
"Do not lie to me," he gave fierce instructions, his words sharp like the whip used to torture.  
  
"I'm not," O'Neill said, his vision beginning to clear. The face before his own was frighteningly dark. His features accentuated by his anger and the lack of light in the room.  
  
"Lies!" Maldo shouted and threw Jack away by the grip he held of O'Neill's chin. Jack stumbled and landed a few feet away from where he'd been and his head could vouch for it. Brief pain struck through the mark. He sat up slowly with a hand resting on the ground.  
  
"You will tell me where the other has gone," Maldo persisted, leaving his royal chair and proceeding over to the grounded Colonel.  
  
Now in Maldo's hand, was a sword he'd picked up from the table by his chair. A long, silver blade, cut to perfection. The minimal light filtering in from the windows caught its polished surface and bounced from it, sending beams of white to various points in the room as Maldo twisted the swords' handle in his hand.  
  
"And if you do not tell me," he continued, "I shall not spare your life any longer." The tip of the sword dug itself sharply under Jack's chin and forced his head back.  
  
"Do I make myself clear?" Maldo prodded.  
  
"Crystal," Jack replied.  
  
"Where did the other one go?"  
  
"What other one?"  
  
Maldo sighed, but not from exhaustion. This was an angry sigh. The kind most people dreaded to hear, especially from someone as volatile as Maldo. The sovereign kneeled, lifting his sword away and then lowering it to rest on Jack's chest, close to his heart. Maldo's face was passive. He blinked unnaturally slowly and stared his black eyes into Jack.  
  
"Why," he said eerily, "do you try my patience?"  
  
However, this was not a question he awaited a response to. It was a statement of his anger, a deeply disturbing rage that caused him to obliterate all visual signs. His anger bubbled like lava inside of him, and very soon, it would erupt. Jack stared into the eerie face until it began to disturb him. He looked down at his knees. Not a second later, he watched the tip of the sword run through his right thigh.  
  
White hot, blinding pain ripped through the wound as blood slowly began to ooze from it. Jack's face immediately went ghostly white as he stared unblinking at the red mark. Air stopped entering his half opened mouth as he gasped, trying desperately to draw breath. The lack of air - the absence of it - tried to choke him. It wrapped around his neck like a noose and began to strangle him. Electric pulses of pain ran up and down his leg, as though someone had just tried to connect a power cord to him and switch him on like a lamp. Even the urge to yell in pain was too far away. His eyes were blinded by the whiteness of pain. Maldo's gleeful expression never reached Jack's eyes. The evil king finally removed the sword and left the man.  
  
After some time, two servants took the limp body away to tend the injury. They'd seen worse. The doctor of the village was a servant too, but the other servants had taken her chores for her so as she could remain a doctor for all the villagers. There was often sickness in the small village, and the servants had no time to be ill. When the doctor saw the two servants bringing in the injured Colonel, she asked that they bring her all the supplies they had left. Jack needed attention immediately. After bandaging the wound thickly, and giving him the best medicine they had available at the time, the doctor sat with her new patient, waiting for him to wake up.  
  
After nearly two hours, the doctor's wish came true. Jack's eyes briefly opened, before closing again. He moaned softly in pain and tried to sit up. The doctor put a hand to his shoulder. "Please," she said gently, "remain still. It will do you better."  
  
"Who are you?" Jack's voice croaked weakly.  
  
"I am Azyalae," she replied. "I am a friend."  
  
"I'm gonna ask even though it makes no difference, but, where am I?"  
  
"You are with friends, in a barn. Please, you must lay still. Your leg will take time to heal. You will need to remain off it for some time."  
  
"I can't do that," Jack disputed, again trying to sit. "I've got jobs, if I don't do them, they'll - "  
  
"Do not worry," Azyalae interrupted softly, "others will complete your chores while you heal."  
  
"And Maldo?"  
  
"He will be none the wiser."  
  
Azyalae smiled, her bright blue eyes lighting up her pretty face. Her long burgundy hair was tied back loosely, with strands free around her face. Her skin was smooth and young. She wore a light beige dress with a brown vest. Her hands were small, but her touch was kind and gentle. Just like that of Dr. Fraiser's. "May I look again?" she asked, nodding to the thick bandages around Jack's thigh.  
  
"Yah," he replied.  
  
Two young villagers came into the barn and stood a few feet from the door. "Azyalae," one of them said, "we require your assistance in the fields."  
  
"Wait one moment, Jaun," Azyalae said, and then looked to Jack's eyes. "I do not know your name, sir."  
  
"Jack," he replied, "Jack O'Neill."  
  
Azyalae smiled, her white teeth sparkling like diamonds.  
  
"I am pleased to meet you, Jack," she said and then left with the two villagers for the fields.  
  
For a small village, and a fairly primitive appearance, this doctor seemed to know what she was doing. She'd seen to Jack's leg wound very quickly and slowed the bleeding efficiently, but being bound to a bed, even if it was only made of hay, was something Jack had always had little patience for. He sat up gradually and felt the nausea rush to his head immediately. Closing his eyes, the nausea slowly passed and he was able to re-open them without feeling as though his stomach was being sucked into a black hole. Not long after he broke Azyalae's first request, Jack broke another. Pushing himself away from the bed and onto his unsteady legs, his bare feet flattened onto the ground. Putting the majority of his weight onto his good leg, Jack balanced delicately on his left leg, relying heavily on his own strength and will to hold him up. With his right hand clutching at the wooden beam beside him, he slowly began to ease pressure on his leg. The burning pain strangled the veins in his leg and stopped his blood dead. The initial agony forced a small cry to burst from Jack's mouth as he crumpled to the ground. A few seconds later, the two men that had come into the barn earlier, looking for Azyalae, burst in once again with Zat's aimed at Jack.  
  
"State your purpose immediately!" they both shouted, clearly not remembering O'Neill's face. Pain initially prevented Jack's voice from leaving his throat.  
  
"Immediately, or we will be forced to fire upon you!" One of the men yelled, brandishing his Zat like an old man would a walking stick at a naughty child, only he seemed nervous apposed to grumpy.  
  
Just at the right moment, Azyalae appeared at the door and saw the picture before her. "Stop!" she cried as she saw the men, with their Zat's aimed readily at Jack. "Do not fire," she said, pushing the two men's hands down quickly. "He is our guest, he is injured. Jaun, Roa, remember this man's face. He will be with us for some more time yet, and this event shall not repeat itself. Can you both remember this?"  
  
Azyalae's voice was so calm, and soft. Not demanding or harsh. Not like Maldo. Her wishes were granted without a question, not because she scared everyone into obeying her, but because they all respected and trusted her. She had earned their respect, not demanded it. The two men nodded and left the barn; they were both feeling low about having suspected Jack of something sinister. Azyalae helped Jack onto the hay once more, asking that he trust her this time, and not attempt standing again. Somehow, even she didn't know why, he agreed.  
  
"I apologise to you for the actions of our guards," Azyalae said, while cleaning her hands of dirt from being out in the fields. "They are accustomed to having servants from nearby villages come here and steal anything they can find. You must understand that they were merely being precautious and doing their job." Jack nodded.  
  
"It's all right," he assured, his voice crackly and weak.  
  
Azyalae smiled kindly and sat by Jack's side, on the hay. "You came here with another," she stated after a while. "Is that not true?"  
  
The reminder of the way he'd made his 2IC leave made Jack fall silent.  
  
"I should not have asked this," Azyalae chastised herself.  
  
"I came here with my second in command," Jack said.  
  
"She is no longer present?" Azyalae asked gently, noticing how her patients' mood had changed since her asking about Sam.  
  
"I told her to leave. Ordered her."  
  
"Why?" Azyalae wondered if perhaps she should leave the situation alone. It did have nothing to do with her after all, but she was incredibly curious as to why Jack had ordered his friend to leave him.  
  
"Because I knew she could get to the Stargate safely without me. She had the chance. I wasn't going to let her pass it up."  
  
"That was very noble of you."  
  
At this, Jack closed his eyes and lay still on the hay bed. He was glad Sam was safe, back at the SGC now. He didn't regret making her go. He just wished they'd come and help. Come and help the people of this planet. I didn't do it to be noble, Jack thought.  
  
@  
  
A week passed by and there was no sign of help on P4C 237. Just as there was no sign of Jack at the SGC. Sam was beginning to lose hope. She had hoped her CO would take a chance and go maybe a day or a few days after she did. Unfortunately, so far, her hopes had not come true.  
  
Carter paced uneasily around the Infirmary. She'd been there for two hours now. Two hours before, Dr. Fraiser had given her a check-up and cleared her. The doctor had said her injuries were healing nicely. A little while longer and they'd be gone completely. Only a few scars would stay as a reminder of the torture. Just enough to ensure the experience was never forgotten. Sam chewed nervously at her fingernails - a hobby she'd newly discovered. Janet eyed her friend as she checked up on another patient.  
  
"Sam," Fraiser said, approaching the Major, "you need to stop pacing." Momentarily, she obeyed, but quickly she was back to pacing.  
  
"Sam, please," Janet begged, grabbing her arm. "You've got to stop."  
  
"Stop what, Janet?" Sam snapped. "Stop worrying? Well, if you tell me how, I'll try to do it, but right now the only way I see myself not worrying, is when Colonel O'Neill walks through the Stargate."  
  
"Listen to me for a minute, Sam," Janet persisted. "I understand you're worried. I do, I'm worried for the Colonel too, but this isn't helping. Just, give him some time."  
  
"Time?" Sam choked. "He's had a week! I thought he'd be back by now."  
  
"Sam, forgive me for needing to say this, but, you seem.I don't know the right word.you seem more worried than I've ever seen before. Colonel O'Neill has been in terrible situations before. Maybe not like this, but pretty bad, and you've been worried, but not this worried. Tell me if I'm wrong, but is there something else going on here that you haven't told anyone about?"  
  
"No," Sam replied shortly. "I'm - I'm just worried. That's all."  
  
"Ok."  
  
"Sam," an extra voice invited itself into the conversation. It was Daniel.  
  
"Daniel," Carter acknowledged, letting him approach her.  
  
"What's going on?" Jackson asked. "The General said - "  
  
"Colonel O'Neill is alone on P4C 237," Sam interrupted to tell her friend quickly. Daniel's face fell into a frown.  
  
"Alone?" he queried. "Didn't you both go?"  
  
"He - ordered me to leave."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Sam looked at the floor with her mouth slightly open. Her eyes were stinging, as though tears wanted to hurt her. She squinted a little and looked back up to answer her friend's question. "We were both tortured," she paused, the words were hard to say, although she didn't know why. "Colonel O'Neill was pretty bad. He knew of a short route back to the gate and told me to take it. He told me to leave him there."  
  
Daniel felt a strange anger towards his friend, but as well, a sadness and sympathy. She'd left her CO behind. Daniel knew it would have been hard for her to do, but he wished she hadn't. Somehow though, he knew she had to. "It's ok," Jackson said sympathetically as he pulled Sam into a hug. He knew she needed it. "He'll be fine."  
  
"I hope so, Daniel," Carter mumbled into the archaeologists shoulder. "I really hope so. For the Colonel's sake."  
  
Two hours later, Teal'c joined Daniel and Sam. Naturally his questions were the same as Daniel's had been. Where was O'Neill? Why was he not with Major Carter? Why had she come back without him? Sam struggled, but explained the situation as best she could without feeling overwhelmingly guilty once again. Each time she thought about it, she wanted to cry all over again. She couldn't understand how she'd suddenly become so emotional. It wasn't like her to act this way. She wasn't alone in noticing that. They'd all taken a guess at the reason for her acting so emotionally about the whole thing, but even Sam didn't know the real reason. There were so many different things, that one reason just didn't amount to enough.  
  
Sam, Daniel and Teal'c waited for a miracle. They waited for the one thing none of them truly believed would eventuate. 


	7. One Way, No Way

Chapter 5 - One Way, No Way  
  
Before that week of waiting was up, Jack had begun to use his leg. Pain was often a factor that had to be ignored, but Azyalae assured him it would pass. Over the week, Azyalae had begun to feel closer to her new patient. They had been spending quite a bit of time together, as doctor and patient. Azyalae had come to like Jack. He was a good person. She also had to admit he was definitely not a trouble to look at. In fact, he was quite a pleasure to look at. He was stubborn as anything when it came to taking notice of her doctorly advice, but she now understood that he would do as he pleased not matter what she told him. As far as Jack was concerned, it was his way or no way. He liked Azyalae too. She was a nice person. She had that same doctorly way about her, like Doc Fraiser. Azyalae was easy to like. She was friendly and always smiling.  
  
Each day Azyalae had been helping Jack do some simple exercises to loosen his muscles and help with the mobility of his injured leg. He'd slowly been getting stronger and better at the exercises, and now was at the stage where he could stand and walk fairly easily on his own. Azyalae watched on with a smile. "You are progressing remarkably quickly," she praised, resting her hand lightly on Jack's arm as he sat down again. "I am impressed."  
  
"Thanks," Jack said, trying to smile gratefully. "How much longer, you think before I can get back to work?"  
  
"Some more days," Azyalae responded, unable to stop smiling. "I shall leave you some space alone now."  
  
"Sure."  
  
Without the smile leaving her face, Azyalae left the barn. She stopped outside the closed double door and leant against it for a moment. She knew Jack wanted to go home to the people he knew. His friends. Azyalae had a hard time admitting, although she didn't really know him well, that she would miss him when he was gone. A week may not be long, but when she was isolated from her own people most of the time, having someone like Jack around was a nice change. Jack sighed when Azyalae was gone. He hated his new arrangement. Being confined. Having very little or close to nothing to do with his days. Being injured was a large contributing factor to that problem, but also the fact that if he left the barn, guards would surely see him and take him back to Maldo for some more torture. As inviting as it all sounded, Jack wasn't so sure he was ready for more torture. His own mental torture was enough. The thought that he would be living on this planet for the rest of his life wasn't altogether bad, but it also wasn't something Jack planned. His life had to go back to the way it had been before. He needed it to, but the way things were going, it didn't look as though it would any time during the near future. The thought was enough to make his heart sink, but the prospect that thought may become fact, was worse.  
  
If only he'd known how close to the truth his thoughts were.  
  
@  
  
FOUR MONTHS LATER  
  
"Unscheduled off-world activation!" Sergeant Davis shouted as the alarms burst into action, sending nearly every member of the mountain into brief consideration.  
  
"Who is it?" General Hammond queried on his way into the Control Room.  
  
"I don't know, Sir," Davis responded. "We're not receiving a GDO transmission."  
  
"Close the Iris," Hammond ordered.  
  
Davis nodded. "Yes, Sir."  
  
Moments later, Sam and Daniel entered the Control Room. "Who is it, General?" they asked in unison.  
  
"We're not receiving any GDO transmission," the General replied.  
  
Both Doctor and Major bowed their heads in thought briefly. At the same instant, their heads both rose and they spoke.  
  
"Jack."  
  
"The Colonel."  
  
"Why wouldn't he have a GDO, Major? You had one."  
  
"I know, Sir. I have no idea why he wouldn't have one. Maybe he couldn't get to the other one or they destroyed it after I left," Sam supposed, then focussed her eyes onto the General. "General, please. You have to take this chance. It may be the only one the Colonel gets."  
  
"If we're wrong, Major," he said, "we have no idea what we could be letting through. We could be opening the door for the Goa'uld."  
  
"I know this is a risk, General, and I understand if you're not willing to take it. I just know what it was like on that planet, Sir. If Colonel O'Neill has been able to get to the gate, this may be his only chance. If we don't at least give him this chance, he's probably not going to get another one."  
  
Hammond buried his eyes into the closed Iris. Was it Jack trying to get through, or just an attempted attack by the Goa'uld? It could be anything on the other side of the Iris, but if Hammond didn't make his decision soon, whatever it was trying to come through would be dead before they reached the opposite end of the wormhole.  
  
"Open the Iris," the General said finally and it was done. "I'll leave it open for three minutes. If nothing has happened after that time, we'll shut it down." Sam wanted to dispute the decision. 'Give him a bit longer than that' she wanted to say.  
  
"Thank you, Sir," she said instead. At least the General was giving him a chance. Come on, Colonel, Sam thought desperately, the Iris is open.  
  
After two minutes, the wormhole disengaged on its own. Sam breathed in deep and closed her eyes. Three Staff Weapon blasts flew through the Event Horizon before it shut down. Thankfully no one was hurt.  
  
No one came through the Stargate.  
  
"I'm sorry, Major," the General apologised sincerely. He was just as disappointed that Colonel O'Neill didn't come through the gate before it disengaged.  
  
Sam wasn't as worried about that, although it was eating away at her. Her main worry was that he'd been killed trying to get home. Three Staff blasts. What if they'd fired more than three shots and he'd been hit? What if he'd been killed? So many 'what ifs'. Sam gritted her teeth so hard it hurt then left the Control Room. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest and the sound beat like a drum in her ears. She wanted so badly to scream in anger. In disappointment. In fear. In sadness.  
  
In the solitude of her quarters, Sam opened her journal. She rarely wrote in it, although she often meant to but got too busy and then forgot. The last date in it was January. January 5th.  
  
Today was so long - were the first words - I spent most of it alone. I was supposed to be doing research on something, but I got sidetracked. Not like me at all, but I was thinking again. Thinking about when we all were checked to see if we were Zatarc's. I know Colonel O'Neill and I took on a professional outlook to the situation. I guess that means I'm supposed to forget about the whole thing and pretend it never happened. Pretend we never admitted to having feelings for each other. That I never stood there looking at my CO while he admitted he didn't want to leave, just to save me. Pretend that I actually didn't want him to leave me, in case I never saw him again.  
  
It's not like I planned on feeling this way, but I can't lie to myself about it. We both admitted to it. There's no turning back on that. I know and he knows. And now I wish there was some way for it to be ok. Some rule that made it all right for us to.to feel this way about each other.  
  
The entry ended abruptly. Sam bit her lip while reading over it and then ripped out the page. Irately, she screwed it up into a ball and threw it across her quarters. Angry tears slowly trailed down her face as she collapsed onto the floor and hugged her knees. If anything bad happened to her CO.  
  
"It's all my fault," Sam repeated to herself a few times. "I'm so sorry, Colonel."  
  
@  
  
"INSOLENCE!" Maldo shrieked as Lopbell shoved Jack down onto his knees. "How dare you attempt an escape! You have been shown the consequences for such an act! Your sense has surely been injured along with your leg. Have you no memory of the punishment received by another who attempted escape? Do you wish to die?"  
  
Jack looked up slowly through his bruised and swollen eyes. His breathing was slow and his strength very little, but his loathe of Maldo had not changed. "Yes," he hissed through gritted teeth.  
  
Maldo's expression of anger slid away from his dark face and turned to intrigue. "Leave us," he said. His guards did as they were told. Maldo approached Jack and knelt before him. Lifting O'Neill's bruised and battered face up to meet his own, Maldo smirked. "You wish to die?" he asked again.  
  
Jack nodded mildly. His head throbbed as though a marching band were practising inside it. The drums pounded in his ears endlessly. The incessant beat was beginning to send him insane.  
  
"Yes," O'Neill repeated his reply and watched Maldo smile.  
  
This planet was slowly and agonisingly killing Jack. His life was nothing more than constant pain for him and an amusement to Maldo. What more point was there? They were planning on killing him anyway. Why not let it be now?  
  
"No," Maldo said suddenly, getting up and finding his sword.  
  
"Why?" Jack spat angrily. Maldo wanted to kill him, why wouldn't he now?  
  
Maldo returned to the injured man and knelt before him again. Raising his sword to the Colonel's face, he allowed the point to push just past the skin and draw blood. "First you must learn," Maldo said sharply, pushing the swords' point in a little further, "true pain and suffering."  
  
"Why won't you just kill me?" Jack asked, feeling the sting of the swords' blade in his cheek.  
  
"You must suffer. Suffer greatly and then die a slow and painful death. You have not yet suffered enough."  
  
"The Goa'uld are all the same, aren't they?" O'Neill hissed.  
  
Maldo removed the sword abruptly. "Of what do you speak?" he asked quickly.  
  
"You thought I didn't know, didn't you?" Jack knew the answer.  
  
"I do not know what you s - "  
  
"Yeah, and I'm a monkey's uncle. I know you're a Goa'uld. What about all the rest of your 'people' huh? Do they know? Have you told them?"  
  
"Lies."  
  
"Your favourite saying. All Goa'uld love saying that, don't they? How long do you think you can lie to them? How long before they figure it out?"  
  
"They will never figure it out," Maldo sneered. "They know nothing of the Goa'uld."  
  
"That's how stupid you think they are," Jack stated. "They probably know more than you."  
  
"From where have you discovered this information?" Maldo demanded.  
  
Jack smiled. "Do you really think I'm gonna tell you?"  
  
That was not the best of things to say. Maldo shoved the tip of sword back underneath Jack's chin. The ruler's eyes were nearly as sharp as the swords' blade. Anger radiated from them. "You will tell me or I will kill you," he said very matter-of-factly.  
  
Jack smiled again. "Good," he adopted the same tone. "At least you've changed your mind about that."  
  
Now Maldo smiled and removed the sword. "You shall not be victorious," he said. "If you shall not tell me what I want to know, and I shall not let you have what you want, then you shall suffer."  
  
"Sure," Jack agreed. "You were going to make sure of that anyway."  
  
"Lopbell!" Maldo shouted and his first prime answered his call.  
  
"Master?" Lopbell queried, entering the room with sword at the ready.  
  
"Take this away and make it suffer," Maldo said disgustedly.  
  
Lopbell smiled. "Gladly," he said, lifting Jack effortlessly and dragging him away.  
  
Three hours later, Jack found himself back in the barn with Azyalae. She watched his eyes open again and smiled comfortingly. She saw so many injured friends and even family around her, and yet she herself didn't know true suffering. She'd never been tortured or made slave away in the fields like all the other women. She considered herself to be lucky - extremely lucky.  
  
She didn't know just how lucky she was.  
  
Jack's head felt heavy. He was sure a steamroller had run over him. If it was blood pumping that made the loud thumping sounds, or his heart beat, he couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, it was so loud, he couldn't even hear Azyalae's voice as she spoke soothingly. "Can you speak?" the doctor asked softly. She watched as Jack's eyes slowly closed. She gently placed two fingers on his neck, just to be sure. His pulse was there, but only just. "Please, open your eyes," Azyalae begged. This was the worst she'd seen anyone after torture.  
  
She tended all the victims. Maldo knew there was a doctor tending the wounds of the tortured, but through his searches he had found nothing. An inside servant would always report to Azyalae and the guards when Maldo was sending out another search, and they would pack up and move. They would hide away anywhere possible for as long as the search lasted, and then move back to the safety and warmth of the barn. The pounding inside Jack's head only seemed to get louder as Azyalae spoke. He could hear her muffled voice, but it was so distant. She was so far away. The haze he'd seen before closing his swollen eyes must have been her though. It was, wasn't it? Was he dead? Maybe he was and that's why everything was so fuzzy. So muffled and far away. But everything hurt so badly. In heaven, surely there was no pain? Then why was there such agony through his body? Air rasped in and out of his throat, but it didn't seem to do anything. Pain still seemed to choke and blind him. Lopbell hadn't been kind, but Jack had thought he was prepared this time. Wrong. Now was only the beginning of the suffering Maldo had planed. Azyalae was extremely concerned. Most of the gashes in Jack's chest were deep. Blood seemed to be everywhere. His face was badly bruised. Bloody and dirty. He was hardly recognisable. Before Azyalae started to work on the injuries he'd gained since the last time she saw him, she wanted to make sure Jack was at least coherent. Something told her, he wasn't.  
  
"Jack," she said softly, pressing the back of her right hand against his forehead. "Jack, can you hear me? It is Azyalae. Please say something."  
  
Groggily forcing his bruised eyes open, Jack frowned and tried to see Azyalae in focus. His vision disagreed with his wishes, not allowing him to see clearly.  
  
"Azyalae?" O'Neill tried to say, but only managed a faint mumble. No words formed.  
  
Azyalae frowned. She could see he was trying desperately hard to say something that made sense, but it just didn't work.  
  
"This is by far the worst torture I have seen," Azyalae murmured to herself as she began to clean up Jack's wounds. Jack tried to talk again but jumbled sounds were all that he could manage.  
  
"Shh," Azyalae whispered, taking his hand in her own. "You must conserve what little energy you have remaining. Please, do not try to speak anymore." She smiled as best she could, given the circumstances.  
  
Her voice was so quiet. So soothing. But still so far away. Jack tried to say ok. Tried to smile and say he was fine. Azyalae watched him slowly lose consciousness. It's better for him this way, she thought and then quickly got back to work on his injuries.  
  
Jaun and Roa, the two guards, came inside the barn. They remembered Jack this time, though Azyalae couldn't understand how. His face was covered in so many bruises and lesions, she barely recognised him.  
  
"It is bad, Azyalae," Jaun said quietly from behind the doctor as he and Roa approached. "Isn't it?"  
  
"I am afraid it is," Azyalae replied dismally, taking a glance at the two young men. Their faces were both set in similar expressions.  
  
"He will survive, won't he?" Roa asked.  
  
"I cannot say that now," Azyalae admitted. "I hope so. Keep your hopes strong." She smiled at them and then took a look at her supplies. Turning back, she asked: "Can you please find me some more bandage. There is not enough here." The two young men nodded and left quickly to do as they were asked. Azyalae rested a hand on Jack's unconscious face.  
  
"Please remain strong," she whispered. 


	8. The Power Of One

Chapter 6 - The Power Of One  
  
For two days, Azyalae sat by her patient. There were no medical machines around for her to see what was inside, not like the Infirmary. There was no way of knowing what kind of damage was on the inside. Azyalae focussed her deep blue eyes onto the man beside her. She sat on a rickety old wooden chair beside the makeshift hospital bed. The hand she held in her own was larger, but motionless. The owner of the hand hadn't moved since two days before when he'd been brought to the doctor. His injuries were now tended completely. The cuts and contusions would slowly heal, but Azyalae knew some of the deeper cuts would leave permanent scars behind them. This was not her main concern.  
  
At the present, Azyalae's main worry was for the cataleptic man lying next to her. "Jack," she murmured tiredly. She hadn't slept at all through either night. "Jack, you must wake up and prove to me you will be all right."  
  
It was early in the morning, but Azyalae hadn't allowed herself to sleep through the night. The sun was yet to rise and the only light in the barn was a candle burning dimly inside a glass cylinder on the table nearby where Azyalae sat. The glow of the flickering candle fell upon Jack's face and made him look peaceful. Azyalae took note of the serene picture, memorising it. The bruises seemed to be irrelevant, almost unnoticeable. Azyalae smiled dimly and pressed a brief, friendly kiss to Jack's forehead. "Remain strong," she whispered and left briefly to get some food.  
  
Azyalae returned to the barn twenty minutes later after getting some food for herself, and some for Jack in case he woke up soon. As she stepped up to the bedside, Azyalae saw the open eyes of her patient and dropped her chalice of water to the ground. An excited surprise grasped her voice momentarily, rendering her unable to speak.  
  
"Hey," Jack croaked. "How long have I been out?"  
  
Azyalae's face now was set in a smile. Her miracle had again come true. "I am so pleased to see your open eyes," she sighed happily, sitting down and taking Jack's hand in hers again.  
  
There was a silent moment where each of them took a moment to collect themselves. Then Azyalae spoke.  
  
"Please, describe for me how you are feeling," she said, her smile now imprinted. "I'm ok," Jack replied simply, disappointing Azyalae.  
  
"This cannot be," she stated. "Your injuries are yet to heal."  
  
"Trust me," Jack insisted, "I'm all right."  
  
Azyalae knew better. She shook her head disbelievingly and clamped a hand down on Jack's arm before he had the chance to think of getting up.  
  
"You are not 'all right'," she said sternly. "I am a doctor, and I will say when you are all right."  
  
"You're sounding more like Doc Fraiser," O'Neill commented lightly, covering Azyalae's hand with his own. When she wouldn't let go, the lightness of the situation died. "C'mon Doc, I need to walk around a bit."  
  
"You are in no state to be walking."  
  
"I think I can decide that."  
  
"I disagree. The last time I advised you not to do something and you did it, I was proven to be correct. This need not happen again."  
  
"I'm not gonna go falling again, ok? Just let me up for a while and I'll come back. I promise."  
  
"You shall do no such thing."  
  
"Aw c'mon, you doctor's are all the same. I'm fine. Really!"  
  
"If you are so 'fine' then why is it your voice is weak? Can you explain that? Or perhaps why your skin lacks colour?"  
  
"My voice and my skin have nothing to do with my legs. Trust me, I can walk."  
  
"Oh, you can?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Very well - you walk. And when I am proven to be incorrect, I will then apologise. Is this not fair?"  
  
"It's great. Prepare to apologise."  
  
Azyalae released her grip of Jack's arm and he sat up. Initially overpowered by nausea, he waited a moment before sliding his legs off the bed and his feet onto the ground. The soil was wet beneath his feet from where Azyalae had dropped her chalice of water. Not a moment after his weight was on his feet was Jack once again on the ground. Azyalae found it difficult to hide her smile. "Way to say I told you so," Jack mumbled as Azyalae helped him up and onto the bed again.  
  
"Did I not say that - "  
  
"Yeah, yeah," O'Neill interrupted. "Rub it in."  
  
Azyalae smiled broadly at him as she pushed him to lay down again.  
  
"You will remain here for some time," she told him. "I will hear no dispute about it."  
  
"Sure," Jack muttered. "Cut your hair and get you a white coat - it's Doc Fraiser all over again."  
  
"Rest now," Azyalae ignored Jack's complaints as she began to leave. "I shall bring you some water."  
  
Jack watched her go and then felt the full force of pain hit him like a tidal wave. His eyes seemed to shut themselves as pain filled his body like he were a glass being filled with water. It seemed to begin at his feet and slowly rise until it overcame his head in agony. He couldn't help sucking in jagged breaths, trying to swallow the pain. It was all so shocking and so sharp.  
  
"I have brought some more food as well Jack, just in case I cannot leave later on in . Jack?" Azyalae returned, happily chirping about what she returned with, but as she looked up and saw Jack's pained expression, she frowned and rushed to his side. "What is it? What is wrong?" she persisted worriedly.  
  
"Nothing," Jack lied quickly and tried to slow his breathing to a regular pace.  
  
"You are not being honest with me," Azyalae said, knowing she was right and that Jack wouldn't admit it.  
  
"I am, just - trust me," he paused to wince and squint to hold in any other verbal reaction to the pain.  
  
"Why do you not admit the truth?" Azyalae begged, frowning further. "You believe I cannot see it in your eyes? You believe I cannot hear it in your voice? Your words do not conceal the truth from me. I do not understand why you wish to in the first place."  
  
There was a long moment of silence. Jack knew she was right. Knew it was obvious he was lying. He hadn't even had the strength to try hiding it very convincingly either. Azyalae wondered if she should have made such an outburst. It was uncalled for really, but she felt such irritation at the fact Jack continued to lie to her. It wasn't the kind of lie she was used to. She was used to being stolen from and watching people around her try to lie to save being tortured for not completing a task to Maldo's approval. She wasn't used to having someone lie about their own physical condition. No one bothered to do such a thing around her. Everyone had at least once been tortured and had to see her about their wounds. No one told her they were 'fine' when asked where their pain was. She knew, and they knew, she was a doctor. Denying their pain defeated the purpose of seeing the doctor in the first place.  
  
"You are always this same way with your doctors?" Azyalae broke the silence gently with a query.  
  
Jack was at a loss for what to say. It was unusual for him. "You'd have to ask Doc Fraiser about that one," he answered with a half-hearted smile, but his voice lacked expression. Something about the mentioning of the good Doctor again made him think of home. Home. The SGC. Earth. Where the people he knew, his friends, were. The place he missed.  
  
Home.  
  
@  
  
Sam was pacing again. This time it was around her lab. Her work was piling up around her. She'd had no free time in her filled up mind to focus on working. Her head was completely packed with thoughts and problems. There was no more room for work. For logic. For anything.  
  
"Damn!" she cursed suddenly, thumping a fist onto her desk full of papers. The thud made her close her eyes for a second and crease her brow. She'd been thinking for hours.  
  
There was nothing more she could do. Sam sighed deeply and slumped into a chair. Why wasn't there anything else she could do? Why couldn't she find something? Why couldn't something, some idea, just jump into her mind and.  
  
"That's it!" she exclaimed, running from her lab to her friend's quarters. She'd just come up with an idea.  
  
"Daniel!" Sam shouted as she ran into his quarters.  
  
He and Teal'c were making themselves comfortable, in preparation for the latest episode of the space-age cartoon show, Futurama. However, when Sam's urgent voice blew into the room like a gust of wind, both archaeologist and Jaffa turned to see her standing in the doorway, puffing.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked, a frown of puzzlement on her face. Daniel opened and closed his mouth several times before making a full word form.  
  
"Well, we were - "  
  
"Never mind that now," Carter cut him off. Her information was far more important. "I have an idea."  
  
"What does this idea concern, Major Carter?" Teal'c asked.  
  
"We have to go back to P4C 237," she replied.  
  
"Which is.?" Daniel asked blankly.  
  
"Where I was and Colonel O'Neill still is."  
  
"But I thought General Hammond already said you're not allowed to go back. I thought he scrubbed the rescue mission. Did he change his mind?"  
  
"No, Daniel. He didn't change his mind."  
  
"Then, how - "  
  
"I'm going to disobey his orders," Sam said, as though stating that the sky was blue.  
  
"You're what?" Daniel asked in shock.  
  
Sam was always one for the rules and now all of a sudden she was disregarding them without a worry? Something was definitely wrong with that picture. "You heard me Daniel."  
  
"You can't do that, Sam."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"It would be dangerous to attempt such a feat alone," Teal'c answered in place of the archaeologist, noticing he seemed to lack the reason he wanted.  
  
"I'm not going alone," Sam revealed, "you two are going to come with me." Silence fell.  
  
"You are going to come with me, aren't you?" Carter begged a response from her friends. They had to come with her. She couldn't do this alone, or she would have gone already. She needed their help. They needed to do this with her.  
  
"Sam, this isn't like you," Daniel spoke the truth. This wasn't like her at all. Jack had been gone three months on Edora. Three months wasn't longer than four, granted and that situation had been different to some degree. They couldn't get through the Stargate at all then, and they'd had to wait a long time, but he'd still come home.  
  
This was a little more than four months. The Gate was open. Circumstances were altered, and Daniel knew that, but this still was a very similar situation. Why Sam was up-scaling it, he didn't know, but if she was willing to go ahead and violate a direct order, then something was definitely wrong. Something big.  
  
"Are you going to help me or not, Daniel?" Sam snapped.  
  
Jackson licked his dry lips and began to shake his head, slowly. Not as a no, but as a thoughtful reaction.  
  
"Sam, there's something you're not telling us here," he thought aloud. "Something you don't want anyone to know, but you're not hiding it well enough. You've never broken rules before. Why all of a sudden now?"  
  
Sam frowned angrily at her friend and inhaled slowly. "Why are you doing this?" she asked sharply. "Why are you making this something it's not? My CO, our friend, is somewhere I have been. I've seen that place, and not only have I seen what they do there, I've had them do it to me. If this were you, or Teal'c, or anyone else I knew I'd be doing the same thing, Daniel. You don't understand; this is not a nice place to be. This is a place no one should ever have to go. Forgive me if I'm a bit relentless in trying to help our friend."  
  
Daniel narrowed one eye. He wasn't completely fooled by Sam's speech. Fair enough, it made sense. And yes, he did understand that it was a horrible place, but that didn't make it any less obvious to him. There was something else to it; Daniel was sure of it.  
  
"There's still something else, isn't there, Sam?" he foolishly persisted. This didn't impress Carter.  
  
"Forget it, Daniel," she said harshly. "I thought you might want to help, but I guess I shouldn't have given you so much credit. You stay here and do what you like. I'll go by myself."  
  
With that, Sam turned on her heel and stalked away from Daniel's quarters. The archaeologist turned to his friend.  
  
"Determined, isn't she?" he said lightly.  
  
Teal'c was clearly on Sam's side.  
  
"I believe Major Carter has O'Neill's best interests in mind, Daniel Jackson," he offered, and then said no more. It was Daniel's choice what he believed, and clearly that choice, he'd already made.  
  
@  
  
After one day, Jack had had enough. The Infirmary was bad, but this was worse.  
  
"Doc," he called. "I gotta go."  
  
"Where is it you have to go?" Azyalae queried as she approached her patient.  
  
"I have to try again."  
  
"Try again? I am sorry, I do not - "  
  
"Escape. I have to try again."  
  
Azyalae frowned and shook her head. "No," she said. "You cannot."  
  
"You don't understand; I have to," Jack persisted. "I can't stay here anymore."  
  
"Your last attempt failed," Azyalae offered the obvious. "Do you believe they will not make this one fail also?"  
  
"I have to take that chance."  
  
"You cannot. I will not allow it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Your injuries are far from healed. You cannot take this risk. It will cost you your life if you fail. They will not be kind to you, but you should already know this. They will torture you again and your body cannot heal any further injuries. It will be your death."  
  
"I'll be careful."  
  
"No!" Azyalae nearly shouted, but it was unintentional. Her strong personality would not allow Jack to go and get killed. "You cannot go. Your care will not prevent them from finding you. You will die if you leave. I will not allow it." Jack breathed deep. How could he get around this problem? He couldn't stay much longer. He knew he'd go insane. He'd had training against all kinds of things, torture included of course, but this was nothing like anyone could ever imagine. It was worse than any kind of training could prepare anyone for. No one could be prepared for this. If he didn't get out soon, he knew he'd die there. It struck a nerve to think it, but he knew it was true. If he didn't go soon, he'd die.  
  
"How long?" he asked simply.  
  
Azyalae knew what he meant. "I am uncertain," she replied honestly. "Your injuries have had nowhere near enough time to heal. You must remain for some time. Please, do this for me."  
  
"How about a day?"  
  
"That is not sufficient time. You shall require far longer than that."  
  
"Well, I can't wait that long," Jack said sharply.  
  
Azyalae creased her brow and looked at the ground. She had never come across such a stubborn man as Jack. He literally was refusing to allow himself time to heal. It was ridiculous! It made Azyalae angry - something she was not accustomed to. No one made her angry, but Jack seemed able to.  
  
"You must," she replied shrewdly.  
  
"But I won't," Jack repeated.  
  
Then there was an uncomfortable silence. It seemed to last for hours.  
  
"At least two days," Azyalae said quietly. "Please, it is for your own good."  
  
Jack nodded. The anger had left them both. "All right," he agreed. "Two days."  
  
"Thank you," the doctor murmured. "I shall hope for you when you leave "Thanks." 


	9. The Quick Or The Dead

Chapter 7 - The Quick or The Dead  
  
After two days, Jack was ready. His injuries were slowly healing, and still needed a lot more time, but he hadn't the patience for that. Although the pain hadn't gone yet, and he didn't admit it, he was prepared for a long road ahead. He knew if he wasn't quick enough, the guards would catch up to him. Knew that if he took just one minute too long, it could be his death. Knew that if General Hammond didn't open the Iris for him, he could very easily die trying to get home. The thought alone was terrifying, but it was surely better than dying on a planet from torture. Anything was better than that.  
  
Azyalae had spent the two days trying to talk Jack out of going so soon. She knew he wasn't in good health, and certainly not good enough to be trekking off on an hour-long journey, while trying to avoid being caught by guards. It was dangerous, to say the least, and she didn't feel confident for him. She wished that she did, but there was little to feel positive about. Jack had barely any factors on his side. The guards knew he'd tried to escape once before and probably had the Stargate guarded now. They'd tortured him seriously after finding him the first time, and would surely go one better for a second time. He was still injured and had a definite deficiency in strength. He didn't have a GDO, and couldn't be sure the SGC would open the Iris for him, in having no idea that it was in fact him and not a threat. All odds were stacked against him and the worst part was; he knew it.  
  
"You will not reconsider?" Azyalae asked for the third time.  
  
"I have to go," Jack repeated, also for the third time.  
  
"You understand that this could be - "  
  
"Azyalae," O'Neill interrupted, "I know." He wasn't rude about it, just matter-of-fact. "This could be bad. I could die. I know all that, you've told me a million times. Anyone would think you were my mother."  
  
"Perhaps it is good that I am here to remind you then," Azyalae mumbled, almost to herself. "Perhaps if I were not here to remind you of the risks you would not be adequately prepared."  
  
Jack watched Azyalae pacing back and forth, her head down. Standing in her way, she stopped and looked up at him. The expression on Jack's face told Azyalae he was going to be fine. That she should stop worrying about him, but she couldn't help shaking her head in dispute.  
  
"I cannot help being concerned," she divulged. "You are such a stubborn man, Jack. It is very easy to be concerned for your safety when you are not."  
  
"I don't have time for that," Jack smiled, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Azyalae remained intense, but sad. "You must be careful, Jack," she said seriously. He nodded. "I will."  
  
"My thoughts will be with you."  
  
"Thanks. For everything."  
  
"You are most welcome."  
  
Azyalae found it hard to believe she had become so emotional, but four months around one person for her was both uncommon and pleasant. She had begun to feel attached to Jack in some strange way. She had always known he wanted to go home, and that he eventually would go, but now the time had come, with all the circumstances, it was harder to say goodbye than she'd thought it would be. She was both worried for him, and glad. Worried he would not make it to the Gate for his health, or that perhaps the guards would see him and kill him. Also she was glad. Glad that now he was going home, where he wanted to be. Without a thought, Azyalae hugged Jack. She really would miss him; he was a good person.  
  
"Now go, before I make a fool of myself and cry," the doctor said, smiling and rubbing her eyes before she started to cry.  
  
Jack nodded and smiled. She really did care. That was nice.  
  
Without any further words, Jack left quietly through the village and made his way along the shortcut Sam had used over four months before. Taking the path at a paced jog, Jack continuously looked over his shoulder for a sign of anyone tailing him. So far, so good, he thought. The path itself was well worn. Partially covered over by leaves and branches. If not for knowing it was there, Jack may have looked past it. Anyone would. That was perhaps the only reason the guards hadn't noticed it yet - because of its discretion. Jack continued along the trail, feeling the minutes drop by. They each seemed to last an hour. The trek itself felt as though it were never going to end.  
  
Unfortunately, it was going to end, but not in the best of ways.  
  
A little over three-quarters of the way along the trail, a Staff Weapon blast signalled the attack. Jack whizzed around and could just see the approaching guards in the distance, running full pelt and shoving branches out of their way quickly. Veering off of the path, Jack stepped up the pace. He could hear the guards shouting to each other as he began to break away from them, but he couldn't keep a fast enough pace. Not like he normally could have. His body couldn't keep up with what he wanted to do, and his pace slowed. His vision began to blur and his legs became weaker than they already were. The pain was becoming blinding, but not white. Hazy. So hazy that nothing looked normal anymore. Everything was just one big smudge. Jack ignored it and kept running. Keep going, he thought strongly, don't stop until you get to the Stargate. You have to keep going. Just keep going. The guards' voices echoed behind him. They were unclear too. Yelling out for him to stop, as though he were going to. Ignore them. Ignore the pain. Just get to the Gate. You have to get to the Gate. More Staff blasts zoomed past Jack, trying to hit him. Chasing after him and trying to stop him from reaching his destination. Jack's heart thumped hard inside his chest, and his head washed with blurry images. His legs kept on moving, but when he looked down briefly at his feet stomping on the ground; it felt as though he were running on the spot. He didn't feel as though he was getting anywhere. But as the precarious minutes between life and death for Jack ticked by, he slowly got nearer to his ride home.  
  
After what felt like a lifetime, Jack could just make out the circular object ahead. The Gate! Is it the Gate? He still couldn't see properly, the haziness of his vision made it difficult to define anything, but he was almost positive it was the Stargate. And there was the DHD in front of it. Yes, it was definitely the Gate. It couldn't be anything else. The voices kept on shouting behind him, and more Staff blasts flew past him as he ran, but Jack ignored it all. His thoughts were focussed even although pain reigned everywhere else. Get to the Stargate. You have to get to the Stargate, then give up. Get to the Stargate first. Blood rushed through Jack's head and began to run slowly down his left arm as a tree root caught his foot and tripped him. He landed awkwardly but scrambled back to his feet as quickly as he could and tried to forget the ripping pain in his chest; a reminder that his injuries still hadn't healed. Jack stole a glance behind him as he reached the DHD. The guards were gaining on him fast.  
  
The only problem now was that he couldn't distinguish any of the symbols on the DHD.  
  
@  
  
Sam crept into the Control Room as though she were an agent on a top- secret mission. She was in black gear, beanie and all. She darted her eyes about the darkened room, just to be sure no one was there. It was late enough for the Control Room to be empty. She'd planned it perfectly. Knew exactly when everyone was leaving for their breaks and when they'd all be back. She didn't have long. Sam sat down at a computer and flicked on her flashlight. She knew it would be daylight on P4C 237, but it was a safety precaution as well. She'd been around Jack too long. Suddenly she heard a footstep behind her and swivelled her chair around fast. A tall dark figure approached her, but she knew who it was before she put the flashlights' glow upon them. "Teal'c," Sam hissed. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I have come to offer my assistance, Major Carter," the Jaffa responded, taking the chair beside her and sitting on it.  
  
"How did you know I'd be here now?" Sam asked, quite surprised that her comrade would know she was here now. She hadn't told anyone when she was going to do this.  
  
"I have been observing your behaviour for the past few days," Teal'c explained logically, as though it was logical he'd do that. "I also tracked your movements here."  
  
"You followed me?!" Sam snapped quietly.  
  
Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "I was merely concerned for your safety."  
  
Sam rolled her eyes, but she wasn't angry. "Thanks, Teal'c," she said and smiled. The Jaffa bowed his head obligingly. "You are welcome," he said.  
  
Sam turned back to the computer screen and fished through the data for the glyphs to P4C 237. The computer systems had all been altered as a result of the take-over. No one knew about that either, just Sam and whoever else General Hammond had told. His cover-up for the new system was that the SGC was a suspected target for the Goa'uld and they thought someone may have leaked their codes. A viable excuse, granted, but a weak and transparent one.  
  
"The crew will be back soon," Sam said as she continued her search. All the addresses to planets were now coded, almost encrypted, for the easy access of the President and joint chiefs. For Sam, it wasn't too difficult; but for others it would have proven unbreakable. "We have to be quick."  
  
"You are correct," Teal'c agreed, keeping his voice low.  
  
As Sam scanned through the data, she found what she was looking for. "Uh huh," she said triumphantly.  
  
Not a moment later, the alarms were bursting into action. Sam and Teal'c both stood up quickly and spun around for the source of the alarms. "What happened?" Sam asked no one in particular, even although Teal'c was the only one in the room with her.  
  
"I am uncertain," Teal'c admitted. "Perhaps we have been discovered."  
  
"Damn!" Sam cursed angrily. "No, they're not going to stuff this up. We have to go now, Teal'c. I'll go down to the Gate Room. Once I'm down there, start the dial-up program and come down. Shut the blast doors too. Be quick."  
  
With a quick nod each, Carter jogged to the stairs and made her way down to the Gate Room. Before Sam was even halfway there, General Hammond, followed closely by Sergeant Davis, stormed into the Control Room. "Teal'c!" the General shouted, without seeing the Major yet. "What are you doing? Major Carter! What is going on here?!"  
  
"Teal'c, now!" Sam called as she reached the Gate Room and looked up, but what she saw was not pleasing.  
  
General Hammond's angry round face glared down at her. She cowered slightly and bit her lip.  
  
"My office, Major," Hammond snapped.  
  
"Ah, Sir," Davis interrupted quietly. "General, there's an incoming wormhole."  
  
"You've got some explaining to do," the General continued, not even registering Davis' voice.  
  
"General, Sir," the Sergeant continued, although gaining no response. "The Iris, Sir?"  
  
"You too, Teal'c. You were in on this."  
  
"Ah, General!" Davis raised his voice several decibels.  
  
"What is it, Sergeant?" Hammond asked sharply.  
  
"There's an incoming wormhole, Sir," Sergeant Davis answered, pointing to the Stargate just as it activated.  
  
Sam ducked at the sudden burst of life in the Stargate, and then stared into its shimmering matter.  
  
"Well?" the General demanded, his temper short. "Who is it?"  
  
"I'm not receiving any signal, Sir," Davis replied.  
  
"Colonel O'Neill, General," Sam offered again, enthusiasm evident in her voice. "You've tried that one before, Major," Hammond stated, through the microphone.  
  
"General, please," Carter begged, "just once more. If it's not him this time.just give him one more chance, General. Please."  
  
"I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Major."  
  
A staring contest began between Major and General. They both eyed each other, waiting for one to relent.  
  
Sam was standing her ground strong, while the Iris sat open behind her. After a moment or so, the unforgettable sound of a body emerging from the Event Horizon and hitting the ramp could be heard.  
  
Sam turned around. "Colonel!"  
  
"Close the Iris, Sergeant," General Hammond ordered at seeing his 2IC. Starting for the stairs, Hammond added: "And get Dr. Fraiser and a medical team to the Gate Room immediately!"  
  
"Yes, Sir," Davis replied as he watched Hammond and Teal'c leave for the Gate Room.  
  
"Colonel," Sam repeated, falling by her Colonel's side on the ramp.  
  
He was on his knees, frozen still. Blood dribbled down his arm still and his face from cuts he'd gained on his chaotic journey to the Stargate. "Colonel?"  
  
"Is he al - "  
  
"I'm fine," Jack interrupted the General as he and Teal'c walked up the ramp. "I'm fine."  
  
"Sergeant, where is Doctor - "  
  
"It's ok," Dr. Fraiser called as she entered the Gate Room with her medical team. "I'm here. Hello, Colonel, it's good to see you. How are you feeling?" Janet asked as she knelt by the injured Colonel and took his pulse.  
  
Jack's eyes were blank, staring straight ahead. He'd promised himself he'd make it to the Stargate and then it would be ok. As long as he made it. He promised he'd make it, and it'd be ok after that. He'd made it.  
  
"Colonel?" Sam said worriedly. "Janet, what's wrong?"  
  
"I'm not sure," the doctor admitted. "Colonel, can you tell me how you're feeling? Can you look at me, Sir?"  
  
"I'm fine," Jack repeated, but his voice was dead. Flat and empty. "I'm fine."  
  
.TO BE CONTINUED. 


End file.
